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JAXE TAYLOE, 



Oh, then, thoTigh fainting and distressed, 

I "will my W3y pursue ; 
There is a home, there is a rest, 

There is a heaven in view. 

JAivE TAYLCB. 



Z^crL^) 




PUBLISHED BY THE 
AMERICAN TBACT SOCIETY, 

150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YOKE. 



71? ^1 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 18G8, by the 
American Tract Society, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court 
of the United States for the Southern District of New York. 



CONTENTS. 



-♦- 



CHAPTER I. 
Childhood - page 7 

CHAPTER II. 
Home Life 24 

CHAPTER III. 
Taking up the Pen — Family Scenes 41 

CHAPTER IV. 

Friendships — Letters — - 57 

CHAPTER V. 
The First Break — Literary Ventures - 84 

CHAPTER VI. 

Kemoval to Ongar — A Winter by the Sea 108 



4 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTEE VII. 
Life in Cornwall— "Display" 135 

CHAPTEE VIII. 
Home Again — Letters 170 

CHAPTEE IX. 
Sun-setting - 210 



JANE TAYLOR- 



chapter i. 



Will you visit the small village of 
Lavenham ? It is in the county of Suf- 
folk, sixty miles from London. In June, 
1786, a gQntleman with his wife and two 
little girls, accompanied by trunks and 
bandboxes, stopped before a large house 
at one end of the village, a little off the 
high-road. 

The lady wears a weary and depressed 
look. There is little eagerness or hope 
on her countenance as she catches the 
first glimpses of her new home ; nor is 
there much in the street through which 



6 JANE TAYLOR. 

they pass to awaken interest or pleasure. 
It is called Spinners'-street, and is lined 
with humble cottages, before which, out- 
of-doors, mothers and daughters ply the 
wheel, while the father within works his 
lumbering loom. The whiz and hum of 
toil is heard from early morning till late 
at nighty yet the labor of eighteen hours 
hardly suffices to keep hunger from the 
door ; for business is dull, and growing 
duller. Machinery is beginning to com- 
pete with handcraft. Carding and spin- 
ning mills are being built elsewhere, and 
w T ool is finding shorter cuts to market. 
What are Suffolk hands and wheels 
to do ? 

That is not our business to answer ; 
but you see it does not look like Lon- 
don. The strangers are from the me- 
tropolis — Mr. and Mrs.- Isaac Taylor — 
in quest of more comfort for their grow- 
ing family than a small income can buy 



JANE TAYLOR. 7 

for them in London. The country had an 
inexpressible charm, as discussed amid 
city fog and smoke — which a long and 
tedious journey over poor roads and in 
poorer conveyances had almost, if not 
quite, dispelled. 

Mrs. Taylor's heart sunk. Besides, 
it had been hard to part with London 
friends. What had Lavenham to offer 
in their stead? She was a woman of 
sense, however, and suppressed her dis- 
gust as well she could, keeping her eye 
bravely on the advantages of a change. 
The house, large and commodious, had 
been rented for six instead of twenty 
pounds. Attached to it was a garden, 
with an arbor, walks, flowers, and fruit ; 
pure air, clear skies, and an abundance 
of sunshine completed the desirableness 
of the new location. 

Mr. Taylor was bred an engraver. 
His father was an engraver ; his brother 



8 JANE TAYLOK. 

too. The taste ran in the family; a 
family of large intelligence, great excel- 
lencies, and untiring industry ; and since 
his work could be done as well away from 
London, family interests could be best 
secured by making a home elsewhere. 

They were Independents. Indepen- 
dency had more than its usual burden 
of odium at this time. The French Rev- 
olution was beginning to convulse the 
world, and the fair show it was then 
making in behalf of freedom enlisted 
many true men on its side. England 
was alive with discussion. Liberal opin- 
ions were expressed in sharp and ear- 
nest words, and national renovation was 
reckoned among the speedy possibilities 
of the times. Non-conformity, suppo- 
sed to be as independent in civil as in 
ecclesiastical matters, had often to bear 
injurious suspicions from Tory neighbors 
and good churchmen. 



JANE TAYLOR. 9 

Mr. Taylor had liberal leanings ; his 
wife was more conservative ; and both 
were too wise and bnsy to make politics 
a root of offence unto themselves and 
others. 

In the earlier years of their married 
life, Mrs. Taylor had given herself with 
anxious assiduity to family cares. The 
accomplishments of her maidenhood were 
laid aside ; books were rarely opened ; 
the cultivation of her mind was neglect- 
ed, and those intellectual tastes which 
had delighted the lover were lost to the 
husband in an absorbing monopoly of 
domestic duties. An old friend saw the 
danger. 

" Your husband,"' she said, " may in- 
deed have a housekeeper and a nurse, 
but I am sure he has no companion ; it 
will be well if in time he does not grow 
tired of you. The affections of a man of 
taste cannot fix permanently on a mere 

2 



10 JANE TAYLOK. 

plod ; and you are certainly nothing 
better." 

Hard, but wholesome reproof. A 
plod ! Mrs. Taylor saw it all at a 
glance. She already felt herself slip- 
ping out of sympathy with her hus- 
band's pursuits : she retrograding, he 
going on ; of course, the distance must 
widen, and she become less and less ca- 
pable of a true wife's place. 

At breakfast and tea-time a book had 
come with him to table ; reading had 
taken the place of conversation, and so- 
cial enjoyment was more rarely one of 
the pleasures of the board. 

What could she do ? Where was the 
time ? How could she command any 
for reading and self-improvement? But 
one servant; the children to take care 
of; so much to clo requiring head and 
hands incessantly. A bright thought 
shot through the busy brain. 



JANE TAYLOK. 11 

" I will propose to read aloud at break- 
fast and tea/' she said. 

The proposal was made, cordially 
accepted, and immediately adopted ; 
and it — the habit of reading aloud at 
meals and in the evening — became a 
cherished family institution. Did it 
work well ? 

"Yes," replies Mrs. Taylor, " it has 
rescued a mind from inactivity which 
was rapidly degenerating and losing the 
few attainments it had acquired ; it has 
beguiled many a care, and diverted 
many a pain ; now affording energy to 
weakness and languor, which in most 
cases would have been deemed insur- 
mountable obstacles to such a custom. 
Besides this, must be taken into account 
the incalculable benefit arising to the 
children of the family, from the vol- 
umes they have thus heard, in addition 
to their own reading. In a word, the 



12 JANE TAYLOK. 

custom has proved one of the prominent 
blessings of our lives." 

Anne and Jane, the two little girls, 
are five and three on their coming to 
Lavenham, and are delighted with the 
freedom of their new home. The old 
arbor, shady walks, and grassy fields 
have a world of innocent enjoyment in 
store for them, besides the bloom they will 
put on their pale cheeks and the strength 
they will give to their delicate frames. 

Mr. and Mrs. Taylor had an ideal 
of education which they vigorously set 
themselves to realize in their growing 
family. The happy mean between inju- 
dicious indulgence on the one hand, and 
the severe system of " a word and a blow, 
and the blow first," on the other, then 
too common, and from which both had 
suffered, it was their daily effort to find. 

A strictly home-education was deter- 
mined upon. The children were to find 



JANE TAYLOR. 13 

their mental discipline and daily pleas- 
ure under the same roof. 

" Their dear father," Mrs. Taylor tells 
us, "found his utmost energies neces- 
sary for the support of his family ; nev- 
ertheless, he as zealously entered into 
his department of their education as 
though it had been his sole employment. 
My own health at this time was consid- 
erably undermined, and many unavoid- 
able chasms ensued in my operations in 
consequence of nearly annual confine- 
ments, our first six children having been 
born in little more than seven years ; 
but neither these hinderances nor indis- 
pensable household affairs prevented me 
from devoting a large portion of my time 
to this darling object. I kept, when not 
confined to my chamber, regular school- 
hours ; and when occupied with domestic 
affairs, my girls, whenever it was possi- 
ble, have been at my side, and by the 



14 JANE TAYLOR. 

questions I encouraged them to ask, their 
minds were stored with such knowledge 
as my yet scanty store enabled me to 
dispense ; and that every fragment of 
time might be gathered up with frugal- 
ity, a hymn at least could be repeated 
at our time of dressing. Our evenings, 
while [ plied my needle, were at once 
cheerfully and profitably spent." 

Hymns, indeed, formed a favorite 
means of religious culture ; and is it not 
one with many advantages? Instruc- 
tion, warning, penitential confession, 
petition, promise, praise, every thing 
which the sincere heart should desire 
or utter find expression in the hymns. 
They are easily learned, and readily 
retained and recalled. The rhythm lin- 
gers and wanders in the memory, to 
give, when needed, a form to thoughts 
too weak to find their own expression, 
and amid the vicissitudes of life, to re- 



JANE TAYLOK. 15 

assert those divine truths which can 
alone interpret them. Hymns stir the 
sluggish soul to conflict, and march it 
on to victory. Their words of trust and 
pleading have borne the experience of 
how many "penitents! They have whis- 
pered the sweetest solace in the hour of 
sorrow, beguiled sickness of its languor, 
and banished from many a wakeful mid- 
night the anxious forebodings which kept 
eyes from sleeping. 

In no way can parents deposit more 
religious truth in the minds of children, 
and leave it safely there to fructify the 
growing character, than by teaching and 
having repeated the beautiful and im- 
pressive lyrics with which our litera- 
ture abounds. Among the studies of 
childhood, hymns should have a sure 
place — not as tasks, but as contributions 
rather to the family stock of improve- 
ment and enjoyment. 



16 JANE TAYLOR. 

It was this, perhaps, which gave bent 
to the little girls, Anne and Jane, and 
at an early age fostered a taste for po- 
etic expression. While yet a mere child, 
Jane amnsed herself and her parents by 
presenting in verse requests most doubt- 
ful of favor. The following scribble, at 
eight years, foreshadows "Hymns for 
Infant Minds," which have not yet 
ceased to please and instruct our little 
ones : 

" Ah, dear papa, did you but know 
The trouble of your Jane, 
I 'm sure you would relieve me now, 
And ease me of my pain. 

" Although your garden is but small, 
And more, indeed, you crave, 
There 's one small bit not used at all, 
And this I wish to have. 

" A pretty garden I would make, 
That you would like to know ; 
Then pray, papa, for pity's sake, 
This bit of ground bestow. 



JANE TAYLOR. 17 

9 

" For whether, now, I plant or sow, 
The chickens eat it all. 
I 'd fain my sorrows let yon know, 
But for the tears that fall. 

" My garden, then, should be your lot. 
I've often heard you say 
There useful trees you wish to put, 
But mine were in the way." 

Jane often used her pen, but rarely 
confided her stories to any one but 
Anne. The sisters took great delight 
in each other's society, and their parents 
gave them room and time for all inno- 
cent amusements. The house was large 
enough to afford a play-room especially 
for them ; and while money for an occa- 
sional new toy was never grudged, their 
ingenuity and interest were oftener exci- 
ted to manufacture them, thus giving 
opportunity and means, as far as possi- 
ble, for entertaining themselves. The 
listless questions, " What shall we do?" 
" What can I play ?" so often heard from 



Jane TayJor. 



18 JANE TAYLOR. 

■ 

children accustomed to be amused by 
others, were never asked, since their 
active minds were too full of projects to 
admit of idleness or uncertainty. 

Two little girls about their own age, 
Anne and Jane Wilkinson, were their 
chosen friends. For a few years the 
four were daily playmates, until Mr. 
Wilkinson emigrated to this country, 
which gave the children their first part- 
ing pang ; and it was a grief our little 
Jane did not soon get over. 

She was a sprightly child, full of sym- 
pathy and intelligence, a favorite every- 
where, especially at the baker's shop, 
where she was often hoisted on the 
bread-board to "speak a piece" for the 
amusement of all present. Praises 
never turned her little head, neutral- 
ized as they were sure to be by a wise 
mother, intent upon training her aright. 

Other children were born into the 



JANE TAYLOR. 19 

family during their stay at Lavenham. 
The long sickness and slowly-returning 
health of Mr. Taylor brought its share 
of care and discouragement into the 
well-ordered household, while the polit- 
ical clouds which darkened the sky 
"sometimes showered terrors on older as 
well as younger hearts. A thousand 
rumors floated in the air concerning 
French atrocities, corrected or corrob- 
orated by a weekly newspaper, The 
Bury News. On its arrival, Mr. Tay- 
lor glanced it over, reserving a fuller 
acquaintance with its contents for the 
reading at dinner or the longer leisure 
of the evening. Who can picture the 
excitement of the children as, bit by bit, 
the bloody recitals of the Revolution 
were read and discussed in their hear- 
ing? 

" I will never forget," said Isaac, then 
a small boy, "the terrible impression 



20 JANE TAYLOK. 

made upon 1113^ own mind by hearing 
the news of the death of the French 
king. It was a dismal winter's after- 
noon, as I perfectly remember, when a 
neighbor suddenly broke in upon our 
games, exclaiming, "The}" have cut off 
the king's head!" And a "reign of 
terror" pictured its gloomy shades on 
their fancy, which even the thought- 
lessness of childhood could not wholly 
dispel. 

To this were added social disturbances 
which agitated even the remotest ham- 
let of England. Party-feeling ran high. 
Old neighbors became deadly enemies. 
Friends ceased to be on speaking terms ; 
and every one suspected of sympathy 
with democratic movements was pro- 
nounced disloyal, and fell under the ban 
of public obloquy. 

Mr. Taylor, as a leading man among 
the Dissenters, became an object of dis- 



JANE TAYLOR. 21 

like to his "church and king" acquaint- 
ances. There had been riots in many 
places, and the mob in Lavenham, coun- 
tenanced as they well knew they should 
be by the gentry and clergy, longed to 
attack the "Meetingers," as they called 
them, and have their share of plunder 
and excitement. 

One afternoon a friendly neighbor, in 
hot haste, ran into the Taylors to warn 
them of approaching danger. A furious 
mob, with drums beating and flags fly- 
ing, were assembling on the square, 
breathing vengeance on Mr. Taylor and 
his innocent premises. 9 

The terrified children betook them- 
selves to watch the approaching enemy, 
and soon the van appeared at the head 
of the street, brandishing pitchforks and 
mattocks, and altogether wearing a most 
threatening aspect. 

What way of escape ? Justices sided 



22 JANE TAYLOE. 

with the gentry, and there seemed noth- 
ing to ward off a disastrous issue. De- 
liverance, however, came. As the mob 
swept down the street with its noisy hub- 
bub, a portly clergyman in official rig 
opened his door, and motioned the lead- 
ers to stop. An address was made. 
What its purport, the Taylors could not 
hear ; but behold, the tumult ceased ; 
the rioters retired, and peace was re- 
stored to the quiet street. 

Mr. Taylor and his family breathed 
freely once more, and a night of quiet 
restored the hope and courage of the 
household. 

To whom were they indebted for de- 
liverance? Under God, to his brother 
minister ; so thought Mr. Taylor, who 
early the next morning, called to ex- 
press the family's gratitude for his kind 
interference in their behalf. 

"Spare your thanks, Mr. Taylor," 



JANE TAYLOE. 23 

was the stately reply; "my wife's sis- 
ter is very ill, and I thought so much 
noise and confusion, if the people effect- 
ed their purpose so near us, might have 
been very prejudicial to her in her weak 
state. ;; 

So much for the neighborly courtesies 
of the times, and for that party spirit 
which recognizes no neighborly tie. 



24 JANE TAYLOR, 



CHAPTEK II. 

11 A rural home is the best home of 
the domestic virtues and affections. It 
is within the circle of a detached conn- 
try-house that family life 'opens itself out 
at large ; it suns itself, blooms, and at- 
tains its ripeness ; it preserves itself in 
the faithful memory of survivors, and 
so holds itself entire to the end, as if 
an assured immortality were wrapt up 
in its folds," writes one in after years of 
the happy household of Lavenham. 

"A much higher rate of family health 
may be reckoned on," he goes on to say, 
" than in city or city suburbs. We are 
exempt from the visitation of a hundred 
ills, real or imaginary, to which our city 
friends are liable. Along with purer 



JANE TAYLOR. 25 

air, earlier hours, and country routine, 
there will be greater simplicity of mind, 
manners, and tastes. Nor are we tyran- 
nized over by conventional forms. It is 
true, we are not able to talk so well of 
all ,. things, but we think more, and are 
more reasonable." 

Thus argues Isaac Taylor. Jane's 
younger brother and all the family agree 
with him. 

The seclusion of Lavenham, however, 
is to be abandoned for a "w r ider sphere, 
opened to Mr. Taylor by a call from a 
dissenting congregation at Colchester to 
become their minister. 

Early in 1796, he removed thither. 

Colchester, on the south bank of the 
river Colne, fanned by the cold breezes 
of the North sea, is rich in natural sce- 
nery and antiquarian interest. Added 
to this, at the advent of the new pastor 
it was alive with troops, watching their 



26 JANE TAYLOR. 

dangerous neighbors across the chan- 
nel. 

The family was soon- reorganized, and 
a larger circle of out-door interests did 
not lessen the assiduous industries of 
home. 

Mr. Taylor himself seems to have 
been a man of remarkable achievements. 
As an artist, he continued his labors. 
Constant and careful with his pulpit ex- 
ercises, he visited his people regularly 
and affectionately, was always present 
at ministers 7 meetings, and never lacked 
an elaborate essay when it was re- 
quired. He had pupils at home and 
abroad, delivered frequent lectures, and 
in addition to all this, zealously set him- 
self to the education of his own family. 
Health and system must have been 
necessary to accomplish all this. 

Jane was in her thirteenth year on 
their removal to Colchester. Four years 



JANE TAYLOR, 27 

younger was her brother Isaac. Two 
other brothers and a sister were all who 
lived to grow up-. 

In addition to the usual studies of 
girlhood, Mr. Taylor wished to qualify 
his daughters for supporting themselves. 
Since engraving was an art in which 
woman had already distinguished her- 
self, no branch of business could be so 
easily and naturally taught them as this. 
At one time, four of his children were 
taking lessons by his side. 

"Ann and I often say," said Jane, 
"that much as we enjoy other things, 
we are never more happy than when 
steadily engaged in the room where we 
engrave ; that is our paradise. You 
may smile, at the comparison/' she con- 
tinues, "and we know the inconveniences 
connected with our engagements there ; 
but experience teaches us that comfort 
and happiness are ^compatible with in- 



28 JANE TAYLOR. 

conveniences. We have every induce- 
ment to industry, and we are thankful 
that that which is necessary is also 
agreeable to us.' 7 

Lest the studio should give them a 
distaste and inaptness for more womanly 
occupations, Mrs. Taylor faithfully ex- 
ercised her daughters in all the duties of 
the broom and duster, the needle, and 
the kneading-board. 

The family were early risers, and every 
moment of the clay was thriftily employ- 
ed ; not as a task ; there was no feeling 
of bondage or restraint ; no sense of 
hurry goaded them on ; but each, incited 
by a spontaneous and loving impulse, 
entered heartily on the- work set them 
to do. "And I believe/ 7 writes Jane 
to her friend in America, "we enjoy a 
greater proportion of real happiness than 
many who live a life of apparent ease 
and pleasure. We find it is employment 



JANE TAYL0K. 29 

that gives recreation its greatest charm ; 
and we enjoy with a double relish little 
pleasures which, to those who are already 
fatigued with doing nothing, appear tire- 
some or uninteresting. When I see peo- 
ple perpetually tormented with ennui — 
satiated with amusements — indifferent to 
every object of interest, I indeed con- 
gratulate myself that I have not one 
spare moment in which these demons can 
assail me. You, my dear Jane, know 
the pleasures of industry, and you know 
that it is essential to our real happiness." 

Nor was it all work. Birthday par- 
ties, excursions into the country, sum- 
mer walks contributed to the stock of 
family enjoyment. 

"Summer is delightful," says Jane; 
11 but I haye much to love in winter, and 
I can truly say I enjoy the hours of 
quiet industry it always introduces." 

Winter evenings were usually spent 



30 JANE TAYLOE. 

together, each occupied by some lighter 
work of pencil or needle, while Mrs. 
Taylor read aloud. 

" And those daily social readings, con- 
tinued from year to year, while a house- 
hold is running its course of changes, 
constitute a bright continuity of its intel- 
lectual and moral existence, 77 wrote Isaac 
Taylor in after years, recommending the 
habit. 

Were not the' youngest sent to bed? 
Could they keep quiet ? 

•'At that time, a time of old-fashioned 
discipline, the younger children knew 
how to sit with their noiseless amuse- 
ments at a side table, not in terror of a 
nurse-maid ; and the bairns of even three 
years were allowed to make acquaint- 
ance with the English of books." 

What good can children derive from 
hearing a book which they do not un- 
derstand ? 



'JANE TAYLOB. 31 

"Much, in many ways. A child of 
any sensitiveness,' 7 replies he, "is alter- 
nately listening or not listening to a 
book, the voice being that of one who 
is ordinarily listened to with pleasure ; 
the child is caught by the mere rhythm 
of the sentences — and words that have 
a rhythm of their own catch the infant 
ear ; in the frequent hearing they get 
themselves attended to, and at last in- 
terpreted. It seems to me a great error, 
and it is the parent of errors more seri- 
ous than itself, that, as a child should 
understand every thing step by step, so 
he will care for nothing that he does not 
understand. The very contrary is, I 
think, the truth. Nor is it the music of 
the words or sentences only which awa- 
kens the young brain. At the end of 
twenty-five years the brain is the tena- 
cious repository of millions and millions 
of records, words, things, feelings, until 



32 JANE TAYLOE. 

the crowded mass has become a con- 
geries of lexicons and encyclopedias. 
Family readings are not to supply the 
lack of regular and stated instruction 
going on in the schoolroom ; they avail to 
quicken intelligence rather than impart 
learning ; not a schooling for the young- 
er members of the family, but the brisk, 
unrestrained circulation of the intellec- 
tual life of the family. 

" For only such books as enrich the 
understanding and give themes and oc- 
casion for profitable conversation and 
thought should be taken : a wide range 
must be given in the choice of them, 
with liberty to interrupt the reader in 
a seasonable manner. Liberty of inter- 
ruption must indeed always be stipulated 
for in family readings ; questions and con- 
versation favor intellectual digestion. 

"In cities, they must be the latest, 
the noised books of the season, about 



JANE TAYLOR. 33 

which one must be prepared to talk 
a^out in society. In the country, books 
on the shelves, volumes bound and let- 
tered, can take their turn of friendly 
and appreciative notice." 

We can fancy the Taylors in lively 
wonder over Captain Cook, Mungo 
Park, and Dr. Johnson in the Hebrides ; 
while Smollet's fifteen octavos was a 
stock-book of English history constantly 
resorted to in dearth of fresher or more 
attractive material. 

"And my inference is," he says, "that 
if the daughters of a family have had 
the advantage of thus listening* to the 
best samples of our literature, past and 
recent, they will probably have sur- 
passed their brothers in that sort of in- 
telligence which is the best fruit of edu- 
cation, and which brings with it taste, 
refinement, and at the least a good prep- 
aration for further acquirements." 



Jane Taylor. 



34 JANE TAYLOE. 

What new friendships were formed in 
Colchester ? 

The Taylors seem to have had no 
taste, or perhaps time, for general soci- 
ety. An intimacy sprang up between 
them and the family of Dr. Stapleton, 
whose four beautiful daughters were dis- 
tinguished alike for personal charms and 
mental endowments. 

Here Jane and her sister for a time 
found congenial friends. 

A literary club was formed by these 
young persons, where the productions 
of their pens, in essays, stories, poems, 
were contributed, to be read and criti- 
cised by the members. Though Jane 
was the youngest, distrustful of her abil- 
ity, and shy of all notice, she was always 
ready for the part assigned her, and 
prized every opportunity of seeing and 
amending her faults. 

The club indeed had a marked influ- 



JANE TAYLOR. 35 

ence in developing her tastes. Her 
imagination, her delicate observation, 
and thoughtful habits of mind gave the 
pen a precedence over the pencil ; and 
though writing was indulged in only in 
scraps of time snatched from the orderly 
industries of the clay, her articles had a 
fulness and finish which belonged to 
riper years. 

Effort in this direction might possibly 
have received little encouragement from 
her parents. The old prejudice that lit- 
erary labors disqualified a woman for 
housewifely occupation w T as then in fash- 
ion.. "Blue-stocking" was a term of re- 
proach ; and Mrs. Taylor must overcome 
more than her natural reserve before 
consenting to see her daughters among 
the literary aspirants of the day. But 
obstacles are of small moment when 
gifts and qualifications mark out our 
sphere and assign us our duties. Our 



36 JANE TAYLOR. 

drift in life is not always determined by 
the approbation of friends or our own 
selections ; and Jane Taylor in the bosom 
of seclusion was preparing to become 
one of the clearest and wisest writers of 
her sex. 

Her mother also, in later years, con- 
tributed a few volumes to the readers of 
her day. Indeed, the "Family Pen 7 ' 
bears witness to the literary activity of 
this gifted family. 

At an early age the instructions of 
pious parents did not fall unheeded upon 
Jane. She heard and laid up their 
words in her heart, and pondered them 
over, and strove to regulate her feelings 
and conduct by them. At fourteen there 
are records of her sense of the supreme 
importance of religious things. 

The great spiritual conflict between 
good and evil which discloses itself to 
our consciousness with the earliest de- 



JANE TAYLOR. 37 

sires after a higher life, Jane entered 
upon and found only incompleteness and 
failure. 

u Oh/ 7 she says, "it is hard fighting 
in our own strength against the evil bias 
of the heart and external enemies. Their 
united forces are, I am daily more con- 
vinced, far too much for any thing but 
grace to overcome. No good resolutions, 
no efforts of reason, no desire to please, 
can alone succeed : they may varnish the 
character ; but, oh, how insufficient are 
all such motives for the trying occasions 
of common life. I would shine most at 
home ; yet I would not be good for the 
sake of shining, bat for its own sake : 
and when I thus trace the subject to 
first principles, I find a change of heart 
can alone effect what I desire — that 
'new heart and that right spirit' which 
are the gift of God." 

To a young friend she wrote: "I 



38 JANE TAYLOR. 

speak from experience, when I say how 
much benefit you receive from commu- 
nicating your feelings to your dear moth- 
er. Well do I know how difficult it is ; 
yet the good to be gained is well worth 
the effort. You say she is a total stran- 
ger to your feelings. If, then, you con- 
sider the pleasure it would afford her to 
find you seriously inquiring on such sub- 
jects, I think you will feel it to be an 
additional argument for the disclosure. 
Two or three years ago my mind was in a 
state of extreme depression : for months 
I had been conflicting with the most dis- 
tressing fears, and longing to disburden 
myself to my father ; at last I could no 
longer support myself, and breaking 
through what I had thought insurmount- 
able difficulties, I opened my mind to 
him completely. It was a struggle ; but 
the immediate relief I experienced fully 
repaid me ; and the unspeakable benefit 



JANE TAYL0K. 39 

I have derived from the conversations I 
have since from time to time held with 

him, encourage me to persevere 

"Mr. Cecil was very urgent with me 
not to give way to that unhappy reluc- 
tance to converse on religious subjects, 
so common to young persons. If I un- 
derstand you aright, you are giving way 
to discontent as to your outward circum- 
stances. 'The heart knoweth its own 
bitterness,' and it is not for me to sav 
you are happy ; yet from all I know of 
you, j our friends, circumstances, and^ros- 
pects, you are one of the last persons 
whose situation would excite my com- 
miseration. When I feel disposed to 
indulge discontent or fretfulness, which, 
alas, is sometimes the case, I always find 
it a good way to compare myself with 
the thousands who are exposed to the 
miseries of poverty and want — miseries 
which I never knew, and in the absence 



40 JANE TAYLOR. 

of which I invent calamities which the 
smallest exposure to those real ones 
would presently put to flight. But these 
reflections, consolatory as they may be, 
will not always avail to restore our com- 
fort. Discontent, no doubt, much often- 
er springs from internal causes than 
immediately from those that are exter- 
nal : with affectionate friends, affluent 
circumstances, and while in the posses- 
sion of all the world calls good, one may 
be very miserable. Happiness is very 
much in our own power, for it depends 
much more upon what we are than upon 
what we have. But now I cannot help 
laughing at myself; for at this instant, 
while recommending contented ness to 
you, I am indulging an internal murmur, 
and vexing at what I ought to account 
a trifle, so much easier is it to talk or 
to write than to act." 



JANE TAYLOR. 41 



CHAPTEE III. 

In the fall of 1802, Jane visited Lon- 
don, the first time since she left it a lit- 
tle child. A delightful circle of friends 
and relatives welcomed her, and she 
found, what her Colchester associates 
had lacked, religious culture blended 
with their social refinement. The visit 
increased her religious thoughtfulness, 
and led her to feel more than ever that, 
beautiful as this life was, neither its 
beauty nor its engagements could satisfy 
the soul's deepest needs. 

Anne had already found her way to 
the pages of a youth's magazine, called 
the Minor's Pocketbook. With some 
misgivings, Jane followed her sister, and 
the "Beggar Boy" appeared, a small 



42 JANE TAYLOR. 

poem, which attracted sufficient notice 
to encourage further effort. The pub- 
lishers sought the sisters out, and be- 
spoke a book. The result was "Origi- 
nal Poems for Infant Minds," the delight 
of both parents and children from that 
time to this. With the renowned melo- 
dies of Mother Goose, they formed the 
chief capital of nursery literature in the 
last generation ; nor have the fertile 
pens of the present day been altogether 
able to supplant them. 

" Original Poems" was quickly re- 
printed in this country, and translated 
into Dutch and German ; and such was 
its sudden and well-merited popularity, 
that another volume was immediately 
asked for. 

The minister and his wife were natu- 
rally pleased by this unlooked-for suc- 
cess of tlreir daughters ; and the recep- 
tion of their first earnings, ten pounds, 



JANE TAYLOR. 43 

was fall of that proud and joyful excite- 
ment which belongs, and can only be- 
long, to first things. 

During the autumn of 1803 and the 
following winter, the eastern and south- 
ern coast of England was kept in per- 
petual agitation by the threatening atti- 
tude of France. Invasion was feared, 
and troops were kept in readiness at 
different points for instant use. Since 
Colchester was one of the chief military 
stations, a sense of impending danger, 
of course, filled the air. Every day 
rumor whispered fresh fears, and strong 
probabilities were entertained that this 
might be the scene of earliest conflict. 
Several families left town, and others 
prepared to do so at the shortest no- 
tice. 

Mr. Taylor still owned his house at 
Lavenham ; and it being then unoccu- 
pied, it was deemed safe, at least, to send 



44 * JANE TAYLOK. 

a part of the family thither, in order to 
have a home in readiness for more com- 
plete removal. Jane, in charge of two 
brothers and a little sister, led the anti- 
cipated exodus. Twice a week, a wagon 
of cumbrous bulk dragged its weary way 
through the muddy lanes of Suffolk, from 
Colchester to Lavenham ; and into this 
Jane and her charge, with packages not 
a few , were stowed away. 

"And a sorry journey we had of it,' 7 
she writes home: "upwards of twenty 
inside, and each woman had a young 
child. But what we suffered with heat, 
smells, and bad language during the clay 
was nothing to what we suffered when 
night came — the road bad, the wagon 
so loaded that we expected to break 
clown, and the horses so tired that we 
could scarcely get on. The drivers 
were frightened, and you may be sure 
the passengers were. However, at half- 



JANE TAYLOR. 45 

past nine we arrived at Mr. Langley's 
door, for they would not drive to ours, 
and we found them waiting for us with 
much anxiety and more kindness. They 
would not hear to our going home that 
night, and had prepared beds for us. 
Our coming has excited much surprise 
and more alarm. We have been this 
morning and seen every thing safely 
unpacked at our house. The little par- 
lor with a nice fire, though unfurnished, 
looks very comfortable, and we are quite 
in good spirits. 

"Our garden is a wild paradise. 
"What noble willows 1" 

A few days later she writes: "I sit 
down to charm you, my dear mother, 
with an account of the kindness of our 
friends; but first I will tell you, for 
your comfort, that all the china is safely 
unpacked and locked up in the buffet. 
We came directly after breakfast, and 



46 JANE TAYLOK. 

arranged every thing comfortably. Mr. 
Hickman called about eleven, walked 
round the garden-, and directed us how 
to manage it ; and then we had a little 
consultation as to how to open the little 
parlor shutter, which, by dint of ham- 
mers and screwdrivers, was effected ; 
and no sooner was it done, than we be- 
held what I think must have been a mill- 
ion of flies, that, I suppose, having heard 
of Napoleon's intentions, had, like our- 
selves, taken up their winter quarters 
here. We consulted with Mr. Hickman 
on the propriety of having anybody in 
the house ; but he says there is no need, 
that there is no such thing as house- 
breaking in Lavenham. He only re- 
members one instance, many years ago, 
at Langley; and then, the man being 
hanged, so much terror was excited, 
that no one has ventured since in the 
same line. Isaac thinks Lavenham very 



JANE TAYLOR. 47 

desolate ; but lie is much pleased with 
the house and charmed with the Hick- 
mans. 

" They are much pleased with the 
children, who behave very well. They 
have a high idea, they say, of your 
method of managing a family. Every- 
body treats us with great attention ; no- 
body laughs at us for coming ; most think 
it quite right. Our letter excited much 
alarm ; everybody has heard of it. The 
people, by their inquiries, seem to think 
we have been admitted to Bonaparte's 
privy council.' 7 

"Lavenham, October 18, 1803. 

1 ' My dear Mother : We have safely 
received your parcels and letters, which 
were very acceptable to us. I am now 
quite comfortably settled in my new 
house, and feel as if I had taken up my 
station here for a constancy. I manage 
capitally, as you may suppose, and 'give 



48 JANE TAYLOR. 

satisfaction. 7 I rise (I am sorry I can- 
not use the plural number) between six 
and seven, and get every thing in order 
before breakfast ; but with all my en- 
deavors, I cannot begin engraving before 
eleven, to which I sit down again half 
an hour after dinner. We keep school 
very regularly, and Jemima comes on 
both in reading and work. As to econ- 
omy, I study it as much as possible ; 
and for our employments, they are cer- 
tainly broken in upon at present, but 
will be less and less so as we get more 
settled. We have not indulged in one 
walk yet, though the country and weath- 
er have been beautifully inviting; but 
we sit at the bow-winclow next the gar- 
den, and quite enjoy ourselves." 

A letter from Mrs. Taylor lets us 
into the motherly heart. 

"My sweet Darlixgs : Your epistle 
received last night was truly refreshing. 



JANE TAYLOR. . 4Q 

It gratified us in so many points that we 
read it twice over, and it is now on the 
road to London to gratify our dear 
friends there. Your management is un- 
exceptionable — is admirable, save in one 
point ; and now I am going to scold you 
most heartily. You boast that you have 
not taken one walk since you have been 
there. More shame for you. I wonder 
you dared mention such a thing. No 
exercise ! Perhaps you will say you 
have enough with household affairs ; but 
where is Isaac's? where is the chil- 
dren's? Shame on you! Your father 
is quite surprised at it, and desires me 
to say that he expects you to walk every 
day, when the weather will permit, for 
an hour. See also that the children run 
in the garden. Are they good? 

" I am very sorry it is not in my power 
to send you a seed-cake ; but Tuesday, 
when we could have baked, we could get 

Jane Taylor. 7 



50 JANE TAYLOE. 

no yeast ; yesterday, you know, was fast- 
day ; we cannot therefore bake till to- 
morrow. I promise to send you one 
next week. As for the linen, by all 
means have it washed at Lavenham. 
Send me home every thing that wants 
mending; pray let nothing get out of 
repair, but send every thing home at 
once. 

"And now for news. All here is per- 
fectly quiet, and still no thinking people 
at all doubt our being invaded ; but as 
to their success, there are different opin- 
ions. The foolish and uninformed, who 
you know in Colchester form by far the 
greatest part, now laugh at the late 
alarm, laugh at those who left town, 
laugh at General Craig, laugh at every 
thing, and think all as safe and secure 
as if they were in the garden of Eden. 
Sure this is not one of those awful still 
calms before a violent storm ; certain it 



JANE TAYLOK. 51 

is, General Craig is still indefatigable in 
spite of all laughing. The Batter mar- 
ket is being walled up to make a guard- 
house, and every thing goes on with the 
utmost vigor. Yesterday was the fast. 
The volunteers, mayor, etc., all went to 
St. James' to hear Mr. Bound, who 
preached from the Maccabees ! Your 
father entered, for the first time in his 
life, most seriously and earnestly into 
the spirit of the fast. He took one half- 
round of toast for breakfast, and no din- 
ner ; I took no breakfast, save half a 
pint of water, and a very little dinner ; 
no cloth laid ; and Martin and Kitty 
very compliant. Your father and Mar- 
tin went to meeting in the morning; in 
the afternoon we read and prayed at 
home ; and in the evening had a lecture 
in our old place. I chose the text ; it 
was this, David's words to Goliath of 
Gath : 'Tllou comest to me with a sword, 



52 JANE TAYLOR. 

and with a spear, and with a shield : but 
I come to thee in the name of the Lord 
of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, 
whom thou hast defied. 7 It was a won- 
derful discourse. The people came about 
your father in the vestry, and begged 
him to have it printed, several of them 
sa} T ing they would give five shillings 
towards the expense. 

" I had intended to send you the other 
three chairs, but Gosling cannot take 
them. I will, however, try him with 
the little parlor carpet. Your dear 
father set off this morning for London 
with Mrs. Stapleton and the two girls : 
so here I am all alone ; but God, who 
always gives strength for the clay, sup- 
ports my spirits wonderfully. I am tol- 
erable in health, and Martin is very 
good. When your father returns, unless 
things should very much alter for the 
better, his intention is to send you more 



JANE TAYLOR. 53 

and more of his weekly property, and 
after the wash I propose with Martin to 
pay you a visit for a week or two. Our 
dear Anne shall also pay you a visit, for 
we see no likelihood of your quitting 
your station all the winter. As for the 
kindness of your friends, we cannot say 
enough to express our gratitude. God 
bless them all, and you, my dear, duti- 
ful children, the comforts of my life, the 
solace of my heart. Farewell all. 

"ANN TAYLOR" 

"Thank you for the carpet," replies 
Jane ; " it is quite a luxury to us. Al- 
though we brought every thing absolute- 
ly necessary, we have few conveniences ; 
and though, if we were all huddled to- 
gether in a barn, expecting the French 
to overtake us every instant, we might 
be very well contented with 

" 'An open broken elbow chair, 
A candle cup without an ear,' etc. ; 



54 JANE TAYLOE. 

yet, living quietly, like our neighbors, 
we rather miss the conveniences we 
have been used to. I must confess we 
did not fast on the fast day ; we went, 
however, in the morning to the prayer- 
meeting, where we heard an excellent 

prayer from Mr. , of three-quarters 

of an hour. Its length spoiled it, for 
we were all ready to faint. In the 
afternoon we walked with the children. 
I thank you and father for what you 
say about walking ; but really we seem 
very little to need more exercise than 
we have in the house and garden, where 
the children play continually. If we 
take a walk once or twice a week, just 
to look at the old places and show the 
children the new ones, it is quite suffi- 
cient." 

Towards the close of her stay at Lav- 
enham, Jane writes to her mother: 
" Could you see us just now, I cannot 



JANE TAYLOR. 55 

tell whether you would most laugh at or 
pity us. I am sitting in the middle of 
the room, surrounded with beds, chairs, 
tables, boxes, etc. ; and every room is 
the same ; but our brains are in still 
greater confusion, not knowing now what 
to do. Have you heard this new alarm ? 
It is said the French are actually em- 
barking. Mr. strongly advises us 

not to move till we hear something 
more; so we are quite perplexed. We 
have at length resolved to wait, at all 
events, till Saturday; and if you write 
by return of post, we shall be able to 
act then according to your wishes ; but 
in the mean time we shall be in a most 
delightful plight, for most of the things 
are packed up, ready to go to-morrow : 
and then if, after all, we must stay, it 
will be vexatious enough. If you find 
there is no foundation for the alarm, 
you will, of course, order us home di- 



56 JANE TAYLOR. 

• 

rectly. But do not fail to write, for we 
are quite deplorable." 

All fears from this quarter having at 
length subsided, Jane and her charge 
returned to Colchester, and by Febru- 
ary the family were reunited und( r the 
home roof. 



JANE TAYLOR. 57 



CHAPTEE IV. 

"The more I see of myself and of the 
performances of others, the more I am 
convinced nature never intended me for 
smartist;' 1 Jane savs. She therefore relin- 
quished engraving with little regret when 
other engagements opened before her. 

A second volume of original poems 
was followed by " Rhymes for the Nur- 
sery," the joint work of both sisters, 
whose sweet lullabies have not lost their 
hold on young hearts, since we find them 
illustrated with all the attractions of 
modern art, bravely holding their own 
among the innumerable host which be- 
siege the nurseries of our day. 

Writing to a friend, she thus describes 
the favoring circumstances under which 
they were written : 



58 JANE TAYLOK. 

"My verses have certainly one ad- 
vantage to boast beyond any that ever 
before escaped from my pen — that of 
being composed in my own study. 
Whether instigated by the sight of your 
retired literarium, or what, I cannot ex- 
actly tell ; but certain it is, that one of 
my first engagements on my return home 
was to fit up an unoccupied attic, hith- 
erto devoted only to household lumber. 
This I removed by the most spirited ex- 
ertions, and supplied its place with all 
the apparatus necessary for a poet, which, 
you know, is not of a very extensive 
nature — a few book-shelves, a table for 
my writing-desk, one chair for myself, 
and another for my muse, is a pretty 
accurate inventory of my furniture. But 
though my study cannot boast the ele- 
gance of yours, it possesses one advan- 
tage which, as a poet, you ought to allow, 
surpasses them all — it commands a view 



JANE TAYLOR. 59 

of the country ; the only room in the 
house, except one, which is thus fa- 
vored ; and to me this is invaluable. 
You may now expect me to do wonders. 
But even if others should derive no ad- 
vantages from this new arrangement, to 
me, I am sure, they will be numerous. 
For years I have been longing for such 
a luxury; and never before had wit 
enough to think of this convenient place. 
It will add so much to the comfort of my 
life, that I can do nothing but congratu- 
late myself upon the happy thought. 
Although it is morning, and, I must tell 
you, but little past six, I have half filled 
this sheet, which capability I attribute 
chiefly to the sweet fields that are now 
smiling in vernal beauty before me.' 7 

But it was more than a workshop. It 
became an inner sanctuary — ' ' her closet/' 
where devotional habits were strength- 
ened and cultivated, and with them that 



60 JANE TAYLOK. 

thorough and honest self- inspection 
which always carefully guarded and 
guided her spiritual life. 

" Those who are in the habit of read- 
ing their own hearts," she says, "know 
that the heart may be as devotedly fixed 
on what is in itself a truly worthy and 
proper object of regard, as on the sinful 
vanities of the world ; and if that object 
be any thing but God, its intrinsic value 
diminishes nothing from the idolatry of 
the feeling. Perhaps I need not blush 
for those things' on which mv heart is 
most intent; but I ought to blush, could 
I disclose the monopolizing place which 
they hold there ; they reign. When will 
these idols fall before God ?" 

Nor should we ever forget that the 
best objects may be idolatrously pur- 
sued. Even "doing good" is beset with 
snares. How can we otherwise account 
for the dwarfed and knurled quality of 



JANE TAYLOR. 61 

character which sometimes suddenly 
startles us in a man or woman long asso- 
ciated with some noble work, save that 
God was left out, and it came, perhaps 
unconsciously, to be sought instead ; and 
so were lost that enlargement, richness, 
and flavor which the soul must ever get 
from having God supremely there, and 
his work subordinate to his Spirit. 

Dr. Stapleton, who welcomed the Tay- 
lors to Colchester, suddenly died in the 
prime of his usefulness — a loss to all, 
and especially so to his own family. 
After his death, his brilliant daughters, 
breaking away from the gentler re- 
straints of their mother, fell into the 
fashionable rationalism of the day. Free- 
thinking was in vogue, and scandals 
among Christians brought discredit on 
creeds. They repudiated faith in the 
word of God, and enjoyed all the intel- 
lectual excitement, the freshness and 



62 JANE TAYLOR. 

freedom which emancipation from the 
" prejudices " of a religious education 
for a time affords. Consumption entered 
the family, and one by one swept all 
away. It swept away also the glittering 
generalities, which, however they may 
have animated the hours of health, 
afforded neither comfort nor support in 
a path to the grave. 

The eldest, entangled more than con- 
vinced, in her long illness tried to retrace 
her steps. Her new instructors could 
throw no light on the dark future. As 
her end drew near, she implored her 
sisters to return to a devout study of 
the Scriptures, and died praying to be 
saved in " God's own way." 

Their intimacy with the Taylors had 
naturally declined. Jane continued in 
friendly correspondence with Eliza, 
nearest her own age, who, attacked by 
the same fatal malady, was journeying 



JANE TAYLOK. 63 

from place to place in a fruitless quest 
of health. At a small inn by the road- 
side she stopped to rest, but was never 
able to resume her journey. The extent 
of her danger flashed upon her ; con- 
science was aroused ; the perils of un- 
settled accounts in the great Hereafter 
filled her with alarm. She felt herself 
exposed to the penalties of Divine law 
without shelter or excuse. After a long 
and agonizing conflict, she accepted the 
"only hope set before us." The Re- 
deemer of lost men became her refuge. 
Renouncing the sophistries of a Christ- 
less system, she lived long enough to 
rejoice in the promises of salvation, and 
commend them to others. 

"My hope," she said, "is in Christ — 
in Christ crucified, and I would not give 
up that hope for all the world." The 
precious and ever-repeated experience 
of believing trust. 



64 JANE TAYLOR. 

Youth, with its elastic hopes and eager 
outlooks, did not dissipate the influence 
which events like these must have on a 
thoughtful mind, and Jane's character 
was visibly shaped by them. 

The skepticism of her friends had not 
been whollv lost on her sensitive nature. 
Doubts, fears, the sophisms of error, and 
the difficulties of truth often harassed 
and perplexed her ; and while they did 
not materially shake her belief, delayed 
a clear apprehension of the fulness and 
sufficiency of atoning love, tinging her 
early religious life with sadness and dis- 
trust. 

"You have well described," she says 
to a friend, "the difficulty, the exertion 
requisite for real and fervent prayer. I 
am glad I do know the difference be- 
tween that and the offering of lifeless 
petitions. You rightly affirm that true 
prayer surpasses every other mental 



JANE TAYLOR. G5 

exercise, and is certainly beyond human 
attainment, without Divine aid. Cer- 
tainly no one ever prayed who was not 
a Christian ; but though sometimes I have 
found every faculty, for a few moments, 
.intently engaged in the exercise, how 
can I hope that this is really prayer, 
when I remember the indifference, the 
coldness, the reluctance that character- 
ize the general state of my mind. Yet 
in the midst of the darkness which sur- 
rounds my own mind, I rejoice, my dear 
friend, in the light which shines upon 
yours. ?; 

Her friends, not unaware of the mis- 
givings which clouded her hopes, often 
vouchsafed their counsel and encourage- 
ment. 

"With sincere gratitude and love,' 7 
writes Jane, "I would thank you again, 
my dear Anne, for your tender concern 
in my behalf. Your visit was truly a 



June Taylor. 



66 JANE TAYLOK. 

visit of sunshine ; and how sweetly 
refreshing are snch occasional gleams, 
breaking forth from a cloudy sky — and 
such indeed is mine. I could bear the 
roughness of the road, if it were but 
bright overhead : however, I dare not 
turn back ; and you, dear Anne, while 
going on your way rejoicing, will not, I 
am sure, be unmindful of your benighted 
friend. It may be long before we meet 
again ; but my heart has been accus- 
tomed to love the absent, and my 
thoughts will frequently attend you, 
laden with sincere affection.' 7 

To another friend she says: "I own, 
indeed, I do feel a backwardness in in- 
troducing these topics, and, as you say, 
arising from a false shame, it ought not 
to be encouraged. But I have other 
impediments ; and if I cannot speak with 
entire freedom on religions subjects, it 
is not indeed because I cannot confide 



JANE TAYLOR. 67 

in you, but for want of confidence in 
myself. I dread much more than total 
silence falling into a commonplace, tech- 
nical style of expression, without real 
meaning and feeling, and thereby de- 
.ceiving both myself and others. I well 
know how ready my friends are to give 
me encouragement, and hope the best 
concerning me ; and as I cannot open to 
them the secret recesses of my heart, 
they put a too favorable construction on 
my expressions. 

"Yet I do hope that I have of late 
seen something of the vanity of the 
world, and increasingly feel that it can- 
not be my rest. The companions of my 
youth are no more ; our own domestic cir- 
cle is breaking up ; time seems every day 
to fly with increased rapidity ; and must 
I not say, 'the world recedes?' Under 
these impressions I would seek consola- 
tion where only I know it is to be found. 



68 JANE TAYLOK. 

I long to be able to make heaven and 
eternity the home of my thoughts, to 
which, though they must often wander 
abroad on other concerns, they may 
regularly return and find their best en- 
tertainment. But I always indulge with 
fear and self-suspicion in these most 
interesting contemplations ; and doubt- 
less the enjoyments arising from them 
belong rather to the advanced Christian 
than the doubting, wandering beginner. 
I am afraid I feel poetically rather than 
piously; and while I am indulging in 
vain conjectures on the employments 
and enjoyments of a future state, I must 
envy the humble Christian who, with 
jnster views and better claims, is long- 
ing* to depart and be with Christ. 

"Nor would I mistake a fretful im- 
patience with the fatigues and crosses of 
life for a temper weaned from the world, 
I could indeed sometimes sav : 



JANE TAYLOE. 69 

" 'I long to lay this painful head 

And aching heart beneath the soil — 
To slumber in that dreamless bed 
From all my toil. ' 

And I have felt, too, these lines : 

" ' The bitter tear — the arduous struggle ceases here— 
M The doubt, the danger, and the fear, 
All, all for ever o'er. ' 

But these feelings, though they may 
afford occasional relief, I could not in- 
dulge in." 

Her discernment of the true question 
at issue in cases like these is not with- 
out interest. 

"I cannot think what has given you 
the idea so strongly that I advocate the 
theatre, unless it be my going one even- 
ing, five years ago ; and though I am not 
aware of having sustained any material 
injury, I have ever since decidedly re- 
solved never to repeat the visit; and I 
hope you will believe me when I assure 
vou that I disapprove of such amuse- 



70 JANE TAYLOR. 

ments, and should think it very danger- 
ous to be in the habit of frequenting 
them. 

"You mention novels. I would as 
soon read some of Miss Edgeworth's or 
Miss Hamilton's novels, with a view to 
moral improvement, as Foster's Essays ; 
and I have too high an opinion of your 
good sense and liberality to suppose that, 
after a careful perusal of these and some 
few other good novels, (for the number 
of good ones I readily allow to be very 
small,) you would repeat that 'to read 
them was incompatible with love to 
God.' You oblige me to recur to a hack- 
neyed argument, that the abuse of a thing- 
should not set aside its use. 

"Do not say, then, I am pleading for 
an indiscriminate indulgence in novel- 
reading, or a frequent perusal of the very 
best of novels ; that, in common with 
every innocent recreation, may be easily 



JANE TAYLOR. 71 

carried to a hurtful excess ; but you seem 
to me to fancy some fatal spell to attend 
the very name of novel, in a way that 
we should smile at, as narrow-minded 
and ignorant, in an uneducated person. 
All I wish you to admit — all I think 
myself is, that it is a possible thing for 
a book to be written, bearing the gen- 
eral form, appearance, and name of a 
novel, in the cause of virtue, morality ; 
and religion ; and then, that to read such 
a book is by no means 'incompatible 
wtth love to God,' or in the least dis- 
pleasing in his sight. I think you will 
not hesitate to admit this ; and then we 
exactly agree in our opinions of ' plays 
and novels.' That plays and bad novels 
are 'poisons which Satan frequently in- 
sinuates' with too great success, I have 
no more doubt than yourself. Yet, if I 
am not mistaken, he has some still more 
potent venoms ; if I might judge from 



72 JANE TAYLOlt. 

myself, there are ways, in the most pri- 
vate life, in domestic scenes, in solitary 
retirements, by which Satan can as effec- 
tually operate on the heart as in a crowd- 
ed theatre. I believe I might read a 
hundred novels, and attend as many 
plays, and have my heart less drawn 
from God than by those common pur- 
suits and interests which, while it would 
be sinful to avoid them, I cannot engage 
in without sin. It is in the realities of 
life, and not merely in the fictions that 
occasionally amuse us, that I find the 
most baneful poisons, the most effectual 
weaners from ' love to Grod. ? 

"•I think many people 'strain at a 
gnat and swallow a camel' in these very 
circumstances ; and Satan willingly suf- 
fers them to abstain from the theatre, or 
throw aside a novel with abhorrence, if 
the idol, the real idol he has erected in 
their hearts, receive its daily worship. 



JANE TAYLOE. 73 

You cannot suppose I am bringing this 
forward by way of argument for the 
one or the other ; but it always appears 
to me that people begin at the wrong 
end when they attack such errors as 
these. One might as well expect to 
demolish a building by pulling down 
some external ornament, while the pil- 
lars were left nnmoved ; and I think 
many who exclaim with vehemence 
against those who indulge in some of 
the vain pleasures of the world, would 
do well to examine if there be not some 
favorite idol within their own breasts 
equally displeasing in the sight of a 
heart-searching God. I do not say this 

to you, dear E . I know you watch 

your heart as well as your conduct, and 
earnestly desire to guard it in every 
quarter from the incursions of the great 
adversary." 

10 



74 JANE TAYLOK. 

" Colchestee, Feb. 14, 1808. 

"Nothing less, my dear Eliza, than 
your actual presence would, I believe, 
just now rouse me from the stupor of a 
long evening's application. I alwa}^s 
grow quite rusty in winter, and almost 
forget that the world reaches farther 
than from one end of the house to the 
other. 

" You, who have seen us only in sum- 
mer, when we are never so regular in 
our movements, can scarcely form an 
idea of the retirement and uninterrupt- 
ed regularity of our winter life. We 
seem more like the possessors of some 
lone castle in the bosom of the moun- 
tains, than the inhabitants of a populous 
town. I enjoy this retirement, this 
peaceful and happy home, where my 
heart and my happiness are centred. 
When I look round on the dear and yet 
unbroken circle, I reproach myself if I 



JANE TAYLOK. 75 

have ever iudulged a feeling of fretful- 
ness ; jet we have troubles and anxie- 
ties that will sometimes destroy cheer- 
fulness. But I feel persuaded that, how- 
ever I may feel their pressure now, I 
shall never know happier days than 
these. And one advantage I have ; I 
am still young, and feel that flow of 
spirits, that bounding joy of heart which 
always attends the spring of life. The 
spirits may indeed be depressed, but 
they will rise again ; and I have often 
been surprised at the joyfulness return- 
ing to my heart from no apparent cause, 
and when circumstances which had 
plunged me in dejection remained un- 
changed.' 7 

"But this is not all." Jane says as to 
motives: "He who searches the heart 
will not afford me strength to over- 
come my temper unless he sees a right 
motive urging me to attempt it. If I wish 



76 JANE TAYLOE. 

to be amiable for the same reason that 
I might wish to be accomplished or beau- 
tiful, that is, that I may be admired, or 
loved, or respected, can I hope for suc- 
cess ? Oh, no. If I be not actuated by 
a humble desire to obey the commands 
of G-od, and follow the bright example 
of Jesus Christ, by a hatred of all that is 
sinful, and an ardent desire to be 'holy, 
as he is holv, 7 I must still strive and 
pray in vain. How does this increase 
the difficulty of the work, and show the 
absolute necessity of Divine help: not 
that I think a modest wish to please can 
be sinful ; indeed, without it how can we 
ever expect to please ; but this must not 
be the spring of action, unless we prefer 
the approbation of friends to the favor 
of God." 7 

11 My dear Luck," she writes to a 
London friend, Sarah L. Condor, "much 
as I love London for the friends it con- 



JANE TAYLOE. 77 

tains, I think my delight in country sce- 
nery increases every year ; and while I 
occasionally cast a wistful look towards 
places where I feel a heart interest, yet, 
when I contrast smoke, noise, and dark- 
ness with the smiling landscape and clear 
sky and all the beauties of a country 
walk, which is here always within reach, 
I forget my privations of other kinds, 
and acknowledge that my lines have 
fallen to me in pleasant places. 

"That I have an eye to see and a 
heart to feel the beauties of nature, I 
cannot feel too thankful for, because 
they afford me constant and unsatiating 
pleasure, and form almost my only recre- 
ation ; and I trust that, having acquired 
a love for these simple enjoyments, I 
shall never lose it, but that in seasons 
of solitude and of sorrow I shall continue 
to find a sweet solace in them. When 
I am in low spirits, weary, or cross, one 



78 JANE TAYLOR. 

glance at the landscape from the window 
of my attic never fails to produce a sal- 
utary effect on me. And when "tis 
night, and the landscape is lovely no 
more, 7 if moon, planet, or star conde- 
scend to beam through my casement, I 
retire under its benign influence. To a 
Londoner I might apologize for dwelling 
on such a theme, but to a poet I cannot ; 
and though to a correspondent I ought 
to apologize for so much egotism, to a 
friend I need not." 

" You ask me to define a compliment, " 
writes Jane to Josiah Condor, Luck's 
brother. "I thought we had agreed 
that praise bestowed upon real merit by 
the honest judgment, and administered 
temperately, ought not to be termed a 
compliment. Whenever praise exceeds 
these limits, it deserves no better name. 
But I fear, unless we have courage to 
violate the common laws of good-breed- 



JANE TAYLOE. 19 

ing, we must all confess ourselves faulty 
in this respect. Indeed, it seems to 
depend more upon the character of our 
associates than upon ourselves, to what 
degree we offend. I have friends whom 
I -cannot compliment; and I have ac- 
quaintances whom, unless I transgress 
these laws, I must need compliment 
whenever I am in their company. In 
this view, if I have accused you of such 
a practice, I am willing to take the blame 
upon myself ; and I will consider myself 
bound, for your sake as well as for my 
own, better to merit these commenda- 
tions which neither your politeness could 
entirely withhold, nor my vanity wholly 
dispense with. It is difficult to distin- 
guish accurately between an honest de- 
sire to please, and that poisonous love of 
admiration which acts rather as a clog 
than a stimulus to mental improvement — 
to judge between a laudable ambition to 



80 JANE TAYLOE. 

excel and a vain and selfish desire to 
outshine others. A proud indifference 
to the opinion of the world is no amiable 
feeling; but to be independent of its 
smiles, by valuing chiefly the sweets of 
inward tranquillity, is indeed a most 
desirable state of mind, only to be at- 
tained by cultivating the best principles 
and by seeking approbation from the 
highest source." 

In relation to her religious perplexi- 
ties, "prayer," she says, "is to me so 
difficult a task, that when I have per- 
formed it with any degree of correctness, 
I rise from my knees exhausted in mind 
and body ; every power is on the full 
stretch to gain a glimpse of Him whom 
I desire to see, to realize his presence, 
and even his existence ; and if I relax 
for a moment, then all is lost, and J 
seem to be addressing a shadow ; in- 
deed, I fear that I never did address a 



JANE TAYLOK. 81 

single petition, or direct a single thought 
to God. Do you know what I mean by 
saying that my prayers seem to fall short 
of the object to whom I would offer them? 
"Nor can I describe the perplexity 
with which my mind is entangled when- 
ever I try to direct a thought towards 
the Saviour ; I feel no powers capable 
of viewing or even thinking of him ; and 
though I am interested whenever I hear 
or read his name, and feel encouraged 
and affected when I meet with the free 
and gracious invitations and promises of 
the gospel, yet when I attempt to apply 
them, they seem to lose their value and 
importance. If I did did but feel sin to 
be a burden, surely I should soon learn 
to fly to Him who alone could release me 
from it. But this is my misery : I do not 
see the evil of sin; and though I know 
myself to be in cruel bondage to it, yet 
my chains do not gall me ; and with my 

Jin> Tavlor. 1 1 



82 JANE TAYLOR. 

eyes open, the word of God before me, 
knowing every thing, hut feeling nothing, 
I am afraid I shall never have other 
views. It seems impossible that so great 
a change can take place in me. 

"Were any thing less than the wel- 
fare of my soul concerned, I should hes- 
itate to trouble you so often with the 
detail of my fears and difficulties ; but 
it is my life, and I cannot refrain. The 
knowledge that your disease — in some 
respects similar to my own — has been 
so completely cured, has awakened a 
hope which has encouraged me to per- 
severe, when I believe I should other- 
wise have given over ; and you have 
instructed me in the way." 

To those struggling in the same con- 
flict, the assurance that in holding on 
there is final victory, is emphasized in 
the life of Jane Taylor. 

Her brother Isaac in after years char- 



JANE TAYLOR. 83 

acterized her early intimacies and in- 
structions by "Christianized intellectu- 
alism," in which, no doubt, " the sure 
foundation, 7 ' Christ's finished work, was 
not set forth with that clearness and 
directness with which she afterwards 
saw and apprehended it. 



84 JANE TAYLOR. 



CHAPTEB Y. 

The sad excitement of the first break 
in the family circle began to agitate this 
quiet home when Isaac and Martin were 
of age to go out and find what life had 
for them to do ; and it weighed on Jane 
as it must ever weigh on a thoughtful 
and loving nature. 

In a letter to "clear. Luck," in May, 
1809, she opens thus her heart : 

" This letter was begun some time ago. 
Many things have prevented my finish- 
ing it ; and I have been in a state of 

anxiety about the settlement of , 

which has so much occupied my thoughts 
that I have not had the heart to resume 
my pen. His affairs are }^et undecided, 
and we are waiting very anxiously to 
see what is the will of Providence con- 



JANE TAYLOE. 85 

cerning him. When I remember how 
kindly our heavenly Father has hitherto 
led us as a family, in credit and comfort, 
through so many struggles, I feel a sweet 
consolation in committing all our tem- 
poral affairs to him, and hope that my 
clear brothers, for whose welfare we feel 
unspeakable solicitude, may be guided 
by that ' pillar of cloud and of fire ; by 
which we have been so far directed. 
Yet again, when I see that many a one, 
equally deserving and equally dear to 
parents and sisters, becomes a prey to 
misfortunes, and encounters in life noth- 
ing but neglects and disappointments, 
how can I be sure this may not be the 
case with my dear brothers ? 

"Dear Luck, you would pity me if 
you knew the many tears I have shed 
over these forebodings ; but all this is 
foolish and wrong. I do try cheerfully 
to commit them to God. and hope I may be 



136 JANE TAYLOR. 

able to say with some submission, what- 
ever be their fate, ' Thy will be done. 7 
The separation which now draws so near 
I hardly know how to fortify myself to 
bear ; for though the distance is short, 
and our interviews may be frequent, 
yet I must view it as the breaking up of 
our family, so long and so closely uni- 
ted, and a part of it so dear to us leaving 
home — safe, happy, affectionate home— 
for ever. Excuse me, dear Luck; my 
heart is very full on this subject, and in 
writing to a friend, I could not avoid it. 
"Oh, when the mind is weary and 
heavily laden with these worldly cares, 
how refreshing it is to look beyond them 
all to that rest, to those happy, peace- 
ful mansions that are prepared for the 
people of God. The delightful hope of 
seeing all my dear family and all I love 
below safely landed there makes these 
fears and anxieties fade into insignifi- 



JANE TAYLOK. 87 

cance. But oh, what new fears and anx- 
ieties arise here! It may be well that 
our minds are not capable of measuring 
the vast disproportion between the con- 
cerns of this life and those of eternity, 
or we should not be able to give a suffi- 
cient degree of attention to our present 
duties. Could we view the most impor- 
tant events that can ever occur to us 
here in the same light as we shall look 
back upon them from the other world, 
we should scarcely be able to exert a 
proper degree of energy in the pursuit 
or management of them." 

The brothers went to London ; engra- 
ving still ; and painful as this parting 
was in anticipation, their absence, when 
it came, flooded her with those sorrow- 
ful forebodings which every dear old 
home has felt when its sons go out from 
its sheltering love. 

"I regard this separation as one of 



88 JANE TAYLOK. 

the greatest sorrows I have known," she 
says. "I cannot view it merely as a 
parting with a friend whom I may hope 
to meet again in a few months ; for though 
our interviews may be frequent, our sep- 
aration as companions is final ; we are 
to travel different roads ; and all the 
time we may actually pass together in 
the course of occasional meetings in our 
whole future lives may not amount to 
more than a year or two of constant 
intercourse." 

In a letter written to her brothers 
during this separation she says: " Oh, 
this cruel separation! It would have 
killed me to have known, when we first 
parted, how complete it would be. I 
am glad we deceived ourselves with the 
hope of keeping up frequent intercourse 
by letters and visits ; it saved us a se- 
verer pang than any we then endured. 
These painful reflections are revived by 



JANE TAYLOR. 89 

the disappointment of our fond hopes of 
a speedy reunion, which is now rendered 
not only distant, but very doubtful. You, 
engaged in business and surrounded with 
friends, cannot feel as we do on this sub- 
ject. We have nothing to do but to con- 
template our cheerless prospects, or to 
think of the days that are past. I do 
not mean it reproachfully when I say 
that you will soon learn to do without 
us ; it is the natural consequence of your 
situation, and we ought to be reconciled 
to the ' common lot.' But how can I for- 
get the happy years in which we were ev- 
er} 7 thing to each other ? I am sometimes 
half-jealous of our friends, especially of 

, who now has that confidence which 

we once enjoyed. But I will not pro- 
ceed in this mournful strain ; and do 
not think, my dear brothers, that I am 
charging you with neglect, or any de- 
crease of affection ; though I do some- 

12 



90 JANE TAYLOR. 

times anticipate, and that with bitter 
regret, the natural effect of a long-con- 
tinued separation. 

" We have not yet tried separation 
long enough to know what its effects will 
eventually be. I clread lest, in time, 
we should be so accustomed to it as to 
feel contented to live apart, and forget 
the pleasure of our former intercourse : 
and I cannot suffer myself to believe 
what, after all, is most probable, that* 
we never shall be united again. It is a 
forlorn idea ; for what will two or three 
flying visits in the course of a year 
amount to ? Life is short, and we are 
perhaps half- way through it already. 
Well, I ought to be thankful that so 
large a portion of it we have passed in 
company, and that the best part too. 
As to the future, if I could be sure that 
years of separation would not in the least 
estrange our love, I would strive to be 



JANE TAYLOK. 91 

content ; but the idea of becoming such 
brothers and sisters as we see every- 
where is incomparably more painful than 
that of a final banishment, in which we 
^should love each other as we now do." 

No such assurance, alas, can be given. 

Happily a new literary enterprise 
helped to divert Jane's mind from its 
sad regrets. A volume of poems was 
projected by some of her London friends, 
in which she was persuaded to take part. 
Consenting with her usual distrust, she 
gained courage by her humility. 

"Since I have had time to think so- 
berly about the 'Wreath,'" she says, 
" for this must be its title, I have felt 
far less anxious about the share I am to 
have in it. Now I am not going to tease 
you with any of my 'morbid humility/ 
for I am as weary of it and as angry with 
it as you are ; but I must just tell you 
how it affects me. I think I know pretty 



92 JANE TAYLOR. 

well how to estimate my poetical talent ; 
at least, I am perfectly persuaded I do 
not underrate it ; and, in comparison with 
my blooming companions in this garland, 
I allow my pieces to rank as the leaves ; 
which are, you know, always reckoned 
a necessary and even pleasing part of a 
bouquet: and I may add that I am not 
only contented, but pleased with this 
station. It is safe and snug, and my 
chief anxiety is not to suffer any thing 
ridiculous or very lame to appear. With 
these views, I consent. The opinion of 
the little hallowed circle of my own pri- 
vate friends is more to me than the ap- 
plauses of a world of strangers. To them 
my pieces arc already known ; by them 
their merits and their faults are already 
determined ; and if they continue to 
smile kindly upon my simple muse, she 
will not, I think, easily be put in ill- 
humor." 



JANE TAYLOR. 98 

The book came to light under the 

name of "The Associate Minstrels/' 

which the Christmas greetings of 1810 

placed upon many a parlor table of that 

- day. 

Jane Taylor, up to this time, had 
chiefly written for her own amusement, 
the spontaneous expression of feelings 
whose natural outlet seemed to be the 
pen. A conviction that she had a lal- 
011 1 to be Used for service began now to 
dawn upon her — work for the Master, 
usefulness — and with this deeper sense 
of accountability for the written word, 
her writings grew in earnestness and 
vigor. 

Under this new stimulus, in connec- 
tion with her sister Anne, " Hymns for 
Infant Minds" were composed, supplying 
a want then deeply felt by the religions 
teachers of the young. 

Dr. Watts' "Divine Songs " was al- 



94 JANE TAYLOE. 

most the only book of the kind, and a 
pioneer the sisters hardly dared follow. 
Yet as excellence serves to inspire ra- 
ther than discourage, the popularity of 
Dr. Watts, disclosing as it did a real 
need, animated their exertions ; and 
though nothing perhaps will ever quite 
equal the charming simplicity and truth- 
fulness of "Busy Bee' 7 and "The Cra- 
dle Song," "Hymns for Infant Minds' 7 
became permanent stock in juvenile lit- 
erature, and multitudes of little ones, 
wherever the English language is spo- 
ken, have been taught their first lessons 
in God and his truth through its sweet 
and attractive numbers. 

"I think, 77 says Jane, "I have some 
idea of what a child's hymn ought to be ; 
and when I commenced the task, it was 
with the presumptuous determination 
that none of them should fall short of the 
standard I had formed in my mind. In 



JANE TAYLOR. 95 

order to this, my method was to shut my 
eyes, and imagine the presence of some 
pretty little mortal, and then endeavor 
to catch, as it were, the very language 
-it would use on the subject before me. 
If in any instances I have succeeded, to 
this little imaginary being I should at- 
tribute my success. And I have failed 
so frequently, because so frequently I 
was compelled to say: 'Now }^ou may 
go, my clear ; I shall finish the hymn 
myself.' " 

It cost the sisters more real work than 
any thing they had written. Some of the 
hymns were written and re-written over 
and over again, without even then satis- 
fying their ideal of what a child's hymn 
should be, to answer all the conditions 
of sense, shortness, and simplicity. 

It was a work, however, well-pleas- 
ing to Jane, since no expectations of 
literary distinction came in to jar her 



96 JANE TAYLOR. 

desire for doing good, and nothing 
more. 

A letter to Mrs. Taylor, away from 
home, lets us into the happy excitement 
which occasionally stirs up the quiet of 
an author's home : 

' ' My dear Mother : A parcel has at 
length arrived, and I sit down immedi- 
ately, according to promise, to commu- 
nicate its principal contents, though I 
tell }^ou beforehand, that you may not be 
disappointed, there is no particular news 
on the subject which most interests us. 

11 1 will now proceed to make extracts 
from the letters we have received. The 
parcel contained the sheet of hymns, and 
letters from Josiah, Isaac, Martin, Luck, 
Susette, Emma, Sarah, Professor Smythe 
of Cambridge, Walter Scott, and our 
dear James Montgomery." 

After making the extracts, both appre- 
ciative and encouraging, she concludes : 



JANE TAYLOR. 07 

" And now, dear mother, you have 
• had the best of the juice. I have writ- 
ten in a wild hurry. We have no fresh 
news of any sort. Indeed, this might 
-content you. 

" Your affectionate jane. 

Towards the close of this year, Mr. 
Taylor resigned his parish, and the fam- 
ily were for some months uncertain what 
their future destination might be. 

"It is a strange sensation,' 7 wrote Jane 
to a friend, " to survey the map of Eng- 
land without an idea as to what part of 
it we are to occupy. Yet perhaps we 
feel less anxiety about it than you sup- 
pose. Not to be farther removed from 
London than we now are is our chief 
solicitude, and to be nearer would be 
very desirable; more so, on account of 
being able to see our dear brothers more 
frequently. For my own part, might I 
choose a situation, it would be a very 

Juno Tajlor. 1 <> 



98 JANE TAYLOK. 

retired one, among plain, good people, 
whom we could love — a village, not a 
town. My love of quiet and retirement 
daily increases, and I wish to cultivate 
this taste ; it suits me, and does me good. 
To part with our house here, the high 
woods and the springs, will cost me a 
struggle ; and more especially my dear, 
quiet attic. Might I hope to find such 
another in our next encampment, I 
should be less uneasy. 

" I am looking forward with the great- 
est pleasure to your promised visit. Nor 

will I allow, dearest L , that even if 

it were to happen at the time of our ex- 
pected family meeting, you would be 
thought an intruder. Indeed, I must 
say that, if ever we regarded any friends 
with that kind of confidence and affec- 
tion which is current in one's own fam- 
ily, you and S may claim that dis- 
tinction. Perhaps you may be the last 



JANE TAYLOK. 99 

visitor we may receive at Colchester. It 
does seem at last as if some important 
changes must take place in our family. 
Our clear brothers' leaving us was the 
a first signal, though we did not then 
perceive it. From that hour we might 
have bid adieu to the many uninterrupt- 
ed years of quiet family happiness with 
which we have been indulged. Yet I 
am well persuaded it is all for our 
good.' 7 

To Josiah Condor: 

"Colchestek, April, 1811. 

. ... "In the present unsettled and 
uncertain state of our family affairs, you 
may perhaps imagine that I am able to 
think and write of little else ; but I am 
indeed surprised to find so little pertur- 
bation occasioned by them. There was 
a time when such events would have 
excited strong emotions of interest and 
anxiety, and when I could not have be- 



J 00 JANE TAYLOR. 

lieved that I should ever contemplate 
such changes with composure; but now 
I have lived long enough to feel assured 
[hat life is life everywhere, and that no 
materia] augmentation of happiness is to 
be expected from any external sources. 
Tare, I know, will both follow and meet 
me wherever I may go — even should I 
be transplanted From this cheerless des- 
ert into (lie bosom of my dearest friends. 
Friendship, far from its availing to shield 
us from the shafts of care, does but ren- 
der us vulnerable in a thousand points. 
Yet, notwithstanding many anticipated 
I roubles, there are times when I regard 
the possibility of a reunion with my dear- 
brothers, and of joining the beloved cir- 
cle from which we have hitherto been 
banished, with feelings* of real delight. 
But our future destination is still so un- 
certain, that we have no distinct feeling 
or very decided wish on the subject. 



JANE tavldi; 101 

When the idea of our leaving Colches- 
ter was first started, l dei sired nothing 
so much asastill more retired situation ; 
I longed for the seclusion and tranquil- 
lity of an insulated village. A Few 
months, however, have produced a great 
change in my views, if not in my wishes. 
STet I believe it would be bui loo easy, 
even now, to persuade me to relinquish 
qther projects, fraught as they are with 
anxiety and danger, to take refuge in 
souk; • holy shade,' where I might wel- 
come that 'silence, pence, and quiet' 
lor which l feel my heart and soul are 
made. 

'"Though ilie harassing circumstances 
of the last year have driven poetry and 
its smiling train far from my thoughts, 
jret l am not forgetful of the kindness 
which prompted you to speak a word of 
cheer to a fainting muse. I know I can* 
not bettor thank you for your excellent 



102 JANE TAYLOR. 

but long-neglected letter than by saying 
it has fully answered the kind intention 
of the writer. What do you say then 
to my being quite convinced ? Shall I 
tell you that I am thoroughly satisfied 
with my talents and attainments, and 
feel an agreeable confidence in my own 
powers? and that however injured by 
envious contemporaries, I am convinced 
that posterity will do me justice? Do 
not you believe it? Well, then, shall I 
tell a more probable story, and say that, 
in this respect at least, I have learned 
to be content with such things as I have, 
and that I have in some degree subdued 
that unworthy ambition which exposes 
one to mortification and discontent? 
Fatiguing and sickening is the struggle 
of competition. I desire to withdraw 
from the lists. But if this be all, you 
may still think your friendly endeavors 
were unavailing. You did not, I am 



JANE TAYLOR. 103 

sure, expect that your letter would make 
any material alteration in my opinions 
and feelings ; yet it was cheering and 
encouraging. I assure you I felt it so, 
m and therefore you will not think your 
pains unrewarded. As a source of harm- 
less, perhaps even salutary pleasure to 
myself, I would not totally despise or 
check the poetical talent, such as it is ; 
but it would be difficult to convince me 
that the world would have been any 
loser had I never written verses — such, 
I mean, as were composed solely for my 
own pleasure. I do, however, set a 
much higher value on that poetical taste, 
or rather feeling, so far as I have it, 
which is quite distinct from the capabil- 
ity of writing verse, and also from what 
is generally understood when people say 
they are very fond of poetry. But while 
I desire ever to cherish the poetical taste, 
I own it appears to me to be as little my 



104 JANE TAYLOR. 

duty as my interest to cultivate the talent 
for poetry. With different sentiments I 
am compelled to regard my own share 
in what we have published for children. 
The possibility of their fulfilling in any 
degree the end desired gives them im- 
portance, and renders future attempts of 
a similar kind a matter more of duty 
than of choice. I dare not admit all 
the encouraging considerations you have 
suggested ; nor can I fully explain what 
I feel on the subject. That ' such reflec- 
tions arc not of a nature to inspire van- 
ity' is true indeed. No, I desire to be 
humbled by the thought; a conscious- 
ness of unworthiness makes it hard for 
me to indulge the hope of being instru- 
mental of the smallest good." 

"Having a leisure evening, the last 
probably before our removal, I devote 
it to fulfilling my promise to write 



JANE TAYLOR. 105 

you once more from Golchester. Yes, 
we arc really going, and in a few days 
the place that has so long known us 
shall know us no more. Before I quit 
,the scene of the varied interests of my 
childhood and youth, I ought to give my 
mind a long leave of absence, and send 
it back leisurely to revisit the past ; but 
in the hurry of the moment, the feeling 
of it is lost ; and even if I could afford 
to send my thoughts on this retrograde 
excursion, I ought not to ask you to ac- 
company thorn ; for they would stay to 
contemplate scenes and gaze on faces 
unknown and uninteresting to you. I 
can invite my friends to sympathize in 
my present interests, and to survey with 
me my future prospects ; but oUhat fairy 
land they could only discern a line of blue 
distance ; while to me, ' Here a cot and 
there a spire still glitter in the sun.' 

But a melancholy retrospection is an 

14 



106 JANE TAYLOK. 

unprofitable indulgence — a kind of lux- 
ury which perhaps I have no right to 
allow myself. Let me rather, if I have 
time for contemplation, take a more 
humbling and painful survey ; and, re- 
viewing the sins and follies of child- 
hood and youth, resolutely say : ' The 
time past of my life shall suffice to 
have wrought them.' But I want ener- 
gy to commence a new career. Wheth- 
er my mind will recover vigor under 
new circumstances, or will faint under 
the exertion I have in prospect, re- 
mains to be seen — it is a fearful exper- 
iment. 

"Here I sit in my little room. It 
looks just as it always did ; but in a few 
days all will be changed ; and this con- 
secrated attic will be occupied — how 
shall I tell you ? — by an exciseman ; for 
his wife observed to me when survey- 
ing the house: 'Ah, this room will do 



JANE TAYLOR. 107 

nicely for my husband to keep his books 
in.' Well, I shall take with me all that 
has rendered it most interesting ; and 
as for the moon and sunshine that will 
m still irradiate its walls, I would not with- 
hold them from my successor." 



108 JANE TAYLOE. 



CHAPTER VI. 

Mr. Taylor received a call from a 
dissenting church at Ongar, and the fam- 
i\y removed thither, the change gratify- 
ing them all in one respect — it was near 
London, only twenty miles off, north- 
east, in the county of Essex. 

"Ongar, September 23, 1811. 

"My dear E : This is the first 

time I have elated from our new habita- 
tion. Having at length restored things 
to something like order, I sit down in 
my new room to address an old friend. 
At present I scarcely know where I am 
or who I am ; but now that I find my- 
self at the old favorite station, my wri- 
ting-desk, and suffering my thoughts and 
affections to flow in an accustomed chan- 
nel, I begin to know myself again. And 



JANE TAYLOE. 109 

were it not for this, there are certain 
cares and troubles bearing my name 
and arms which will never suffer me 
long to question my personal identity. 
-It is, however, by a pleasure that I as- 
certain it this evening ; I ought not, 
therefore, to begin by complaining. 

"But, my dear friend, you are look- 
ing forward towards a change so much 
more important than a merely local one, 
that it may well appear to you compar- 
atively trilling. That you are about to 
undergo is, of all changes, the greatest 
and the most interesting but one ; and 
that one, if brought into comparison, 
makes even this appear insignificant. 
A recollection of the certain and speedy 
termination of every earthly connection 
is, at such a season, likely rather to 
tranquillize than to depress the spirits ; 
it is calculated to allay anxiety, not to 
damp enjoyment. When marriage is 



110 JANE TAYLOE. 

regarded as forming a connection for 
life, it appears indeed a tremendous ex- 
periment ; but in truth, it is only choos- 
ing a companion for a short journey ; yet 
with this difference, that if the fellow- 
travellers become greatly endeared to 
each other, they have the cheering hope 
of renewed intercourse and perpetual 
friendship at their journey's end." 

The marked success which attended 
these sisters in their efforts for the young 
made their friends not only suggest, but 
urge their opening a school. The plan 
had its lights as well as shades ; and un- 
der their shining, Anne and Jane spent 
the following winter in London, to per- 
fect themselves in some higher accom- 
plishments which had been overlooked 
or neglected in their early education. 

The winter had its pleasures, but ob- 
stacles crossed their projects j the school 
was given up, and the sisters joyfully 



JANE TAYLOR. Ill 

returned to Ongar in the spring, loving 
better than any thing else the sweet se- 
clusion of their happy home. 

Several of Jane's friends entered upon 
- married life at this time, and among 
them her dear Luck, to whom she thus 
writes : 

"Ongar, March 24, 1812. 

"My very dear L : Though in 

much uncertainty whether this letter will 
reach you amid the bustle of preparation 
or after the grand event has taken place, I 
shall venture to despatch it, hoping that, 
under whatever circumstances it may 
arrive, you will not deem it too great a 
trespass on your time to receive my 
kindest wishes and most affectionate 
farewell. Though I have no apprehen- 
sion of feeling any diminution of interest 
and regard towards my friend in a new 
character, yet I cannot but feel that I 
am taking leave of a name endeared by 



112 JANE TAYLOR. 

many a year of friendly intercourse ; 
and while most sincerely rejoicing in a 
change which seems in every respect 
likely to promote your comfort and hap- 
piness, you will forgive me for mingling 
with my heartfelt congratulations some 
tears of tender regret. There are no 
forms of expression — at least I cannot 
command any — which seem adequate to 
an occasion like the present. With ev- 
ery thing to feel, there seems little to 
be said. The best wishes are so com- 
prehensive that they occupy but a small 
space ; and the strongest emotions are 
usually the least eloquent. You have, 

my dear L , my most earnest wishes 

and prayers for every blessing to attend 
you in your new and important situation. 
May } r ou look back upon the transac- 
tions of the approaching clay with in- 
creasing satisfaction and pleasure every 
future 3^ear of }^our life.' 7 



JANE TAYLOR. Ho 

"Onqab, May 11, 1812. 

"My dear E : There is no part 

of your kind letter more agreeable to 
me than that which expressed a wish 
for maintaining a more regular and fre- 
quent epistolary intercourse. On this 
the existence of our friendship must 
now more than ever depend; at least, 
without this kind of communication, it 
cannot be either pleasant or profitable. 
You will give me credit for the sincer- 
ity of this declaration, although my ap- 
parent inattention might well awaken 
contrary suspicions, at least in a more 
recent friendship. But you and I, dear 

E , are too old and sober-minded to 

indulge dreams of cruel neglects and 
faithless friendships; having, as I be- 
lieve, entertained a sincere regard for 
each other for many years ; a regard 
which, though formed in the doubtful ar- 
dor of youthful enthusiasm, has health- 

Jana Taylor, -LO 



114 JANE TAYLOR. 

fully survived those short-lived trans- 
ports ; it is no longer romantic to in- 
dulge the hope that the mutual affec- 
tion will be as permanent as it is sin- 
cere. I am not, indeed, insensible to 
the disadvantageous consequences of an 
almost total suspension of personal in- 
tercourse, and the still more unpropi- 
tious effects of an entire dissimilarity of 
interests and of occupations ; still, I am 
inclined to believe that there is a pecu- 
liar interest attached to the connections 
formed in childhood or early youth which 
is not easily lost; and that those who 
are inseparably united with the history 
of ouy fairy -years may insure a place in 
the lively and affectionate recollections 
even of declining age. I have wandered 
so far from my unfinished apology, that 
I think you will not wish me to retrace 
my steps in search of it ; I will there- 
fore only add my sincere wish and inten- 



JANE TAYLOK. 115 

tion to atone for past remissness by fu- 
ture regularity. 

"Letter-writing is much more of a 
task to me than it used to be. Often, 
when I should enjoy a tete-&-tete, to con- 
verse on paper with a friend is almost 
burdensome. I know not whether it is 
that I am growing old or stupid or lazy, 
though I rather suspect all three. Seri- 
ously, however, I am certainly experi- 
encing some of the disadvantages of 
increasing years. With the follies of 
youth, a portion of its vigor too is fled ; 
and being deficient in constitutional or 
mental energy to supply its place, my 
mind is hanging as limp as a dead 

leaf. But perhaps, dear E , you 

will scarcely thank rae for talking of the 
effects of years, in which respect I am 
so little beforehand with you. I do not, 
however, ascribe all to the depredations 
of time; many a gay lady of five-ami- 



11G JANE TAYLOR. 

forty retains more of youth than I do ; 
and you, though not a gay Judy, will 
long, I hope, appear a young and lovely 
wife. So I will take this opportunity to 
turn to a more pleasing subject, and tell 
how much I rejoice to hear from your- 
self how agreeably you are realizing the 
fair prospects which but lately opened 
upon you ; and from others, with what 
grace, and propriety you occupy the new 
and important station upon which you 
have entered. May you long enjoy and 
adorn it, my dear friend. Earthly hap- 
piness — comfort, 1 should rather say, for 
I believe the former exists only in the 
Dictionary— is indeed to be prized when 
it does not interfere with higher pur- 
suits; and still more so when it tends 
to assist and stimulate them. 

"The ease and leisure afforded by such 
a lot as yours is, in this view, highly 
desirable. It presents the most favora- 



JANE TAYLOE. 117 

ble opportunities of usefulness to others, 
and to yourself, of growing in meetness 
for the heavenly inheritance. Happy 

are you, dear E , that it is your 

highest ambition thus to improve them. 
While souk; are driven through life as 
over a stormy sea, incessantly toi 
and thwarted by the restless billows till 
they arrive, faint and weary, at the ha- 
ren of rest, Others are permitted to ram- 
ble at Leisure through a pleasant vale, 
till they gradually ascend to the ever- 
lasting hills j and of how little conse- 
quence is it by which course we are led, 
so our wanderings do but terminate in 
the same blissful country. We all re- 
ceive that kind of discipline which our 
peculiar dispositions require; and if it 
is severe, we may be sure it is neces- 
sary too." 

Isaac, a favorite brother, to whom 
Jane seems drawn with peculiar tender- 



118 JANE TAYLOlt. 

ness, was out of health. London air and 
occupations did not agree with him ; and 
on the following winter he was obliged 
to sock the milder climate of Deyonshire. 
The two sisters accompanied him. 

[lfracombe, a picturesque town on Bris- 
tol channel, was their winter quarters. 
But Jane shall describe them, which she 
docs in a letter to Josiali Condor, in No- 
vember, 1812 : 

" [lfracohibe is situated in a deep val- 
ley, Surrounded On one side by barren 

hills, and on the other by stupendous 
rocks, which skirt the sea,. Our lodg- 
ings very pleasantly overlook the har- 
bor, which affords us constant entertain- 
ment. The sea, is close behind the house, 
and is so near a neighbor that, during 
(he last high tides, the waves rose in 
immense sheets of foam, and fell over a 
high wall opposite our chamber win- 
dows. It also flowed into the house in 



JANE TAYLOB. J ID 

front, and kept as close prisoners, Our 
walks in ever)' direction are so interest- 
ing that, when the weather admits, we 
.spend a great part of the day abroad. 
. Our rambles among the rocks I enjoy 
most, though at first they excited sensa- 
tions of awe and terror rather than of 
pleasure; but now we climb without 
fear amid a wilderness of rocks, where 
nothing else can be seen, and nothing 
heard but the roar of the distant sea. 
Besides these, we have several cheerful 
walks commanding the sea, bounded on 
the north by a beautiful line of Welsh 
mountains. Their aspects are v('\-y va- 
rious; at times appearing only like faint 
clouds in the horizon ; but when the 
weather is clear, and the sun shines 
upon them, they exhibit an exquisite 
variety of light and shade and delicate 
coloring, finished by distance, like the 
finest miniature. 



120 .IAN 10 TAYLOR. 

Iii a February letter to " dear father, 
mother & 0o,," she writes: "The ap- 
pointed interval of silence being nearly 
expired, I undertake to despatch another 
sheet, though with no news (<> communi- 
cate ; but ns no news is good news, you 
cannot complain. We have had lately 
some very mild spring weather, and 
I often Hi ink how pretty the Ongar gar- 
den is looking with snow-drops, just as 
it did this time l&st year, when we re- 
turned from our London expedition. 
Here we do not see much to denote the 
change of seasons, as the barren hills 
and pocks owe little (o these variations. 

"About ii week ago we had some 
rough weather, and u great deal of thun- 
der and lightning Ihe first storm since 
( )ctober. The sea was very line — I only 
wish I could (ell you how line. We 
were called out of bed one morning by 
the Fortescues to go and see it. The 



JANE TAYLOR. 121 

same day we went out among the rocks, 
and took shelter from an approaching 
storm in a fine but tremendous cavern. 
The sea was then rolling like the loud- 
est thunder, the clouds hanging heavily 
over it, and we expected lightning as 
well as rain. Nothing could have been 
finer, if we had not been frightened. At 
last we set out, in hopes of escaping the 
storm. Our way home was over peril- 
ous fragments of rock, among which we 
had to scamper at full speed. I got a 
heavy fall and sprained my arm. The 
rain came on in torrents, and we were 
soaked through. 

"We have been very busy lately 
helping Mr. Gunn form a Book Society 
here. He is soliciting everybody for 
presents to it. We promised to ask fa- 
ther if he had any thing to bestow, think- 
ing he might very well spare a copy of 

'Lowell's Sermons.' If he is willing, let 

16 



122 JANE TAYLOR. 

it be sent with any thing else he does 
not care for." 

Has Jane written much else besides 
letters ? 

11 As to my employments during the 
winter, I have been disappointed in my 
expectations of writing ; but I have not 
neglected a favorable opportunity, for 
none has presented itself. I went to 
Ilfracombe expecting to find there com- 
plete retirement and much leisure. You 
know how mistaken we were in this cal- 
culation. The engagement of the even- 
ing with our welcome visitors completely 
deprived me of the only time I can ever 
profitably devote to writing. I am far, 
however, from thinking this a lost win- 
ter, or that I have enjoyed a too expen- 
sive pleasure ; for I would not but have 
known and seen what I have at Ilfra- 
combe for twice the expense of time and 
money. I do, however, look forward 



JANE TAYLOR. 123 

with much satisfaction to the prospect of 
resuming my former habits after this long 
relaxation ; and whenever I take up the 
pen again, I hope to reap the advantage 
of the past winter." 

Yet was she impatient under this long- 
continued inaction : 

"I have found — but not now for the 
first time — that any great external in- 
terest, for a continuance, will not agree 
with my mind ; it is living upon dain- 
ties instead of plain food. Accustomed 
to expect my evening's entertainment 
from myself, in some kind of mental ex- 
ertion, a complete relaxation from this, 
and depending wholly, for many months, 
on external means of gratification, is a 
kind of indulgence which will not do to 
live upon ; my mind never had eo long 
a holiday, and I feel it is time to send it 
home." 

Early in the spring of the year 1813 



124 JANE TAYLOR. 

the} r prepared to leave Ilfracombe, and, 

in the expectation of doing so, she 

savs : 
«/ 

'"Ina week or two we expect to take 
our leave of Ilfracombe. Thus ends an- 
other short chaper of the little history 
of life. Like many others, its con- 
tents have not corresponded with the 
title. It has disappointed our fears, 
and greatly exceeded our expectations 
of enjoyment. May it end with a hymn 
of praise.' " 

The Tavlors seem to have fallen among 
agreeable people, which in its way is a 
fine tonic for invalids in search of health. 
Jane was not, indeed, the invalid; but 
this interlude from more weighty work 
improved her general health, enlivened 
her spirits, and broadened her acquaint- 
ance with the world. 

Much as the winter was to Jane and 
Isaac, it brought more important issues 



JANE TAYLOR. 125 

to their sister Anne. Some happy arti- 
cle in the Eclectic Review found a de- 
lighted reader in Rev. Joseph Gilbert ; 
who, on learning the author's name — 
Anne Taylor — was anxious to know her. 
An introduction took place. On this 
visit to Ilfracombe, the acquaintance ri- 
pened into intimacy, and the prospect 
of a new home for their eldest daughter 
gladdened and saddened the Taylor 
household. 

This summer was passed at Ongar. 
The sisters had been more to each other 
perhaps than sisters often are, since sim- 
ilarity of tastes and a partnership of pur- 
suit and aim ennobled the tie of kindred, 
and made them congenial as well as lov- 
ing companions. 

A. newly-established Sunday-school, 
struggling into life in an outlying ham- 
let of the town, was a new interest to 
Jane, and she entered upon its labors 



126 JANE TAYLOK. 

with that grave earnestness which mark- 
ed her growing piety. 

In the autumn Isaac's delicate health 
compelled him again to migrate to milder 
airs, and a second winter at Ilfracombe 
was talked of. Should Jane accompany 
him ? This was a trying question. It 
was hard to leave Anne in the midst of 
her bridal-preparations; hard indeed to 
leave home at all. But her brother 
needed both her care and her society, 
and she cheerfulty relinquished her own 
preferences for his sake. Accordingly, 
by October Jane and Isaac were again 
comfortably settled on the borders of 
the sea. 

In December Anne was married to 
Mr. Gilbert, tutor in the Independent 
college of Rotherham. The absentees 
were there in heart. 

" I cannot suffer this interesting morn- 
ing to pass, my dear Anne, without sal- 



JANE TAYLOR. 127 

utations from Ilfracombe ; and I dare 
say this letter will arrive in good com- 
pany ; but I am sure no one will address 
you who can feel on this occasion either 
so glad or so sorry as I clo. So far as 
you are concerned, I am entirely glad, 
and feel as perfectly satisfied and happy 
as one can do about untried circumstan- 
ces. But I cannot forget that this morn- 
ing, which forms one indissoluble part- 
nership, dissolves another which we had 
almost considered so. From the early 
days of 'Moll and Bet' down to these 
last times, we have been more insepa- 
rable companions than sisters usually 
are ; and our pursuits and interests have 
been the same. My thoughts of late, 
have often wandered back to those dis- 
tant years, and passed over the varied 
scenes which checkered our childhood 
and youth. There is scarcely a recollec- 
tion in all that long period in which we 



128 JANE TAYLOR. 

are not mutually concerned and equally 
interested. If this separation had taken 
place ten years ago, we might by this 
time have been in some degree estranged 
from each other ; but having passed so 
large and important a portion of life in 
such intimate union, I think we mav con- 
fidently say it never will be so. For 
brothers and sisters to separate is the 
common lot; for their affection and in- 
terest to remain unabated is not com- 
mon, but I am sure it is possible ; and 
I think the experience we have already 
had proves that we may expect its con- 
tinuance. Farewell, my dear Anne! and 
in this emphatical farewell, I would com- 
prehend all the wishes, the prayers, the 
love, the joy, and the sorrow which it 
would be so difficult to express in more 
words. If there is a dash of bitterness 
in the grief with which I bid you fare- 
well, it is only from the recollection that 



JANE TAYLOR. 129 

I have not been to you the sister I might 
have been. My feelings have been so 
strongly excited to-day, that I cannot 
bear more of it, and must leave you to 
imagine what more I would say on this 
occasion. 

1 ' I cannot — no I cannot realize the busy 
scene at the Castle-house, nor fancy you 
in your bridal appearance. I intend to 
place myself before the view of the house 
about the time I imagine you are walk- 
ing down the gravel -walk, and stand 
there while you are at church, and till 
I think you are coming back again. 
How strange, how sad that I cannot be 
with you ! What a world is this, that 
its brightest pleasures are almost inva- 
riably attended with the keenest heart- 
rendings." 

The mother's feelings in parting with 
her daughter, though she had every 
reason to rejoice on the occasion, were 

Jane Taylor. 17 



130 JANE TAYLOR. 

very strongly excited. With the hope 
of administering comfort, Jane address- 
ed to her a letter, of which the follow- 
ing is a part : 

"I hope that, even so soon as this, 
Time has performed his kind office, and 
taken off the edge of your sorrow. If I 
did not know that he can perform won- 
ders even in a few clays, I could not 
venture to say so. I was grieved, in- 
deed, but not much more surprised to 
hear that you felt the parting so acutely, 
and when reading your description of it, 
almost congratulated myself that I was 
so far off. Now, however, I would glad- 
ly come and be your comforter, if I could. 
My dear father and mother, we have felt 
much for you ; believe that you have the 
love and the prayers of your absent chil- 
dren. I seldom close my eyes without 
thinking of you, and hoping you are 
comfortable. I feel the separation more 



JANE TAYLOR. 131 

this time than I did before, though in all 
other respects I enjoy as much comfort 
as I can expect to do in this world. I 
I am rejoiced to know that you have had 

the solace of dear S 's tenderness ; 

and in this respect you have indeed been 
gainers by my absence ; she has, I know, 
done all that human s} r mpathy can do to 
console and soothe you. 

"I walked here — to Barnstaple — last 

Wednesday with Miss M without 

any fatigue, though it is ten miles of 
incessant up and down hill. The deep- 
est snow remembered in Devonshire set 
in the day after I came, and has so block- 
ed up the roads that I am detained a 
close prisoner. I intended to return 
on Monday ; but they are so unused 
to snow here, that no one will ven- 
ture to go, though I should not be afraid. 
I cannot tell, therefore, how long I may 
be detained. Though I am very com- 



132 JANE TAYLOE. 

fortable at Mr. 's, I am now impa- 
tient to return home, as I left my brother 
only for a day or two." 

The snow rendered the road between 
Barnstaple and Ilfraeombe nearly im- 
passable for more than a month ; but 
Jane's anxiety for her brother would 
not admit of waiting, and she returned 
to him on horseback, long before a car- 
riage ventured on the difficult enterprise. 

With the loss of Anne, society at Il- 
fraeombe possessed few attractions ; and 
neither brother or sister regretted more 
seclusion and leisure for their studies 
and pens. Isaac sometimes joined his 
sisters in their literary gypsying. Al- 
ready he had entered on that field of 
study of which " Antient Christianity," 
"The Natural History of Enthusiasm," 
and "Saturday Evening" were after- 
wards the fruits. 

The winter saw Jane at her old hab- 



JANE TAYLOR. 133 

its of work. "Display 77 was wrought out, 
one of those charming stories in which 
human nature is mirrored with that qui- 
et fidelity which convinces the judgment 
and wins us to amendment. 

To the often-asked question, "How 
to write a book V 1 Isaac's description of 
the birth of "Display" will answer for 
one at least : 

"My sister began it with a specific 
idea of the qualities she designed to ex- 
hibit, but with no definite plan for its 
execution. In pursuit of the same gen- 
eral object, she followed every day the 
suggestion of the moment ; and this was 
perhaps the only way in which she would 
ever have written. It was her custom, in 
a solitary walk among the rocks, for half 
an hour after breakfast to seek that pitch 
of excitement without which she never 
took up a pen. This fervor of thought 
was usually exhausted in two or three 



134 JANE TAYLOK. 

hours' writing ; after which she enjoyed 
a social walk, and seldom attempted a 
second effort in the day ; for she now 
had adopted the salutary plan of writing 
in the morning only, and to this plan 
she adhered ever after." 



JANE TAYLOR. 135 



CHAPTER VII. 

"In consequence of strongly urged 
advice," Jane tells us, "we determined 
early in the year to remove to Cornwall 
during the summer months." She thus 
describes their new quarters at Mara- 
zion, June, 1814 : 

"As this is one of our saint's days, I 
cannot do better than devote it to my 
friends. One letter I have already de- 
spatched to Ongar ; and I am sure it is 
quite time to address you, as I believe 
ray last letter was written to inform you 
of our arrival at Ilfracombe, though I 
think the fault has not been all on my 
side. The interval has been pretty well 

filled with incidents : S and A 

have not been idle ; you and the prince 
regent have been receiving company; 



136 JANE TAYLOB. 

father and mother have left the Castle- 
house; we have removed to Marazion, 
and Bonaparte to Elba ; so that the 
world does not pay us the compliment 
of standing still till we have time to 
animadvert on its revolutions. 

. ..." I told S that we did not 

think of leaving Ilfracombe till August ; 
but finding that, during the summer, it 
does not often happen that vessels from 
Cornwall put into Ilfracombe, we deter- 
mined to avail ourselves of the first good 
opportunity. We regretted that one 
offered so soon ; we had scarcely twen- 
ty-four hours' notice. But our little 
affairs were soon arranged, and at nine 
o'clock on the evening of the 9th, we set 
sail, and a mild breeze wafted us from 
our dear Ilfracombe. We were tolera- 
bly well till about the middle of the 
night, when a fresh gale sprang up, and 
from that time to the moment of our 



JANE TAYLOE. 137 

landing, at nine o'clock the following 
evening, we suffered continued sickness. 
We landed at St. Ives, and took lodg- 
ings there for a week ; on Friday even- 
m ing we reached this place, where w T e had 
before engaged lodgings : they are not 
so pleasantly situated as those we occu- 
pied at Ilfracombe ; but they are com- 
fortable, and our hostess is a good wom- 
an, who takes pains to please us. 

"Marazion is pleasantly situated on 
the margin of Mount's bay, which forms 
a fine sweep. On the western side lies 
Penzance, nearly opposite to us, at the 
distance of three miles ; it is a fine ride 
by the sea-side. This morning we have 
been there ; it is a large and very pleas- 
ant town, and being so near, we can 
have many of the conveniences it affords. 
The views here are open and agreeable. 
St. Michael's mount is a fine object, dis- 
tant about half a mile, and Penzance 

18 



138 JANE TAYLOR. 

and the adjacent villages very prettily 
skirt the bay. We were recommended 
here in preference to Penzance, as being 
milder, and it suits us better on account 
of its being more retired. In spite of 
our nonconformity, we shall probably 
attend at the chapel of ease, at which 
Mr. Melville Home now officiates, whose 
name, I dare say, you have heard. 77 . . . 
•'My dear, dear family, 77 writes Jane 
July 5, 1814, "I wish you could just 
look in and see me, in a beautiful study, 
with my windows open to the bay, ves- 
sels passing before me, and the sea- 
breeze wafting a delicious coolness. The 
offer of Mrs. Grenfell's house, which I 
mentioned in my last, we accepted and 
took possession last Monday ; and we 
find it so cool, so airy, and so extremely 
pleasant, that we esteem it quite a prov- 
idence for us, for I do think it likely to 
be essentially beneficial to Isaac during 



JANE TAYLOR. 139 

the heat of summer, besides the change 
of scene and cheerfulness, which produce 
a real effect. My bedroom has a fine 
sea view, and I see the vessels passing 
. as I lie in bed. Isaac's is very large 
and airy, with a view likewise. Our 
only difficulty is to know where to sit, 
we have such a choice. There is the 
dining-room, the drawing-room, and the 
sitting-room, and this charming study, 
besides our own rooms. 77 

This beautiful residence was the home 
of Mrs. Grenfell and her daughter Lydia, 
known better to us as the lady whom 
Henry Marty n was compelled to leave 
behind when he left England for mis- 
sionary life in India. Her love for him 
and her Saviour was equal to any sacri- 
fice it might have cost to accompany 
him; but Mrs. Grenfell withheld her 
consent and filial duty triumphed over 
tender ties. 



140 JANE TAYLOK. 

Lydia Grenfell was in some respects 
unlike in her religious character any one 
whom Jane had known before. Her 
piety had the glow, fervency, and sin- 
gleness which marked the great evan- 
gelical impulses of that clay — impulses 
which had not yet consciously quickened 
the Christian feeling and profession of 
the Taylor family. Many a good Non- 
conformist heard suspiciously of the 
transports of Methodism, and was far 
less likelv to fall into the rising swell of 
spiritual renovation than some of his 
untaught and more thoughtless neigh- 
bors. Lyclia was of the English church, 
one of that earnest band of "evangeli- 
cal" believers which has provoked the 
illiberality of liberal Christians from 
that time to this. Jane's acquaintance 
with her and with Methodism as she 
afterwards found it in Cornwall, helped 
not only to allay prejudice, but to en- 



JANE TAYLOK. 141 

lighten and enrich her religious charac- 
ter. Under these quickening influences 
she engaged in active charities, and 
became a teacher in a Sabbath-school 
under Miss Grenfell's care during her 
entire stay at Marazion. 

"I am surrounded with those who 
know that I am Miss Taylor, but not 
that I am ' Jane ;' and it sometimes 
makes me sigh for a renewal of inter- 
course with those who, for that simple 
reason, have yielded me an unmerited 
share of their regard. The many fol- 
lies, infirmities, and deficiencies which 
are intimately known to them, may, it is 
true, be partially and for a time con- 
cealed from strangers ; but yet I would 
rather be with those w T ho, ' with all my 
faults, have loved me still.' .... 

"Nothing can be more tranquil and 
agreeable than the manner in which 



142 JANE TAYLOR. 

our time passes here ; we are both suffi- 
ciently occupied to preserve us from 
dullness ; nor do we need other relaxa- 
tion than the pleasure of conversing with 
each other in those hours of the day 
which we spend together. We have, 
however, some society here, more indeed 
than at Ilfracombe. I would gladly 
avoid the trouble of it, but I know it is 
good for me to be obliged to exert my- 
self in conversation sometimes 

"I do not think my attachment to 
nonconformity is likely to be at all sha- 
ken by my present circumstances ; on 
the contrary, I long to attend 'among 
my own people,' and to worship in the 
simplicity of the gospel. Yet it is both 
pleasant and useful to associate with 
good people who differ from ourselves. 

"St. Michael's mount, directly oppo- 
site to us, and accessible at low water, 
is the most striking object in the scene. 



JANE TAYLOR. 143 

We have not yet thoroughly explored 
it ; but it is much finer and more pic- 
turesque than we had expected, from 
such views as we had seen of it. Alto- 
gether we are pleased with our situation ; 
it is a complete contrast to the wild and 
solitary scenery of Ilfracombe. Being 
prone to form local attachments, I can- 
not at present decide impartially to 
which I should give the preference." 

"How long we shall sojourn in this 
land of strangers is quite uncertain. I 
feel with you, that I dare not look for- 
ward to distances I may never reach ; 
and I too could think of next summer 
with the delightful hope of again seeing 
many that are dear to me; but I am 
afraid of expecting it, or of forming any 
plan beyond to-day : by painful lessons 
I have learned that it is vain and dan- 
gerous to do so. Seldom, perhaps, till 



144 JANE TAYLOE. 

we have lived long enough to observe 
that the wishes we form for ourselves 
are either directly thwarted, or if in- 
dulged, that they wholly disappoint our 
expectation, we are sincerely disposed 
to say, ' Choose thou mine inheritance 
for me. 7 When such wishes appear yery 
moderate and limited, falling far short 
even of the common objects of worldly 
pursuit ; when we ask neither for length 
of days, riches, nor honors, but only for 
some one favorite comfort, we are almost 
ready to expect that such a reasonable 
request will be granted ; and it is well 
if we are taught, either by being disap- 
pointed of it, or with it, that eager de- 
sires for any thing short of the favor of 
God are displeasing to him and injuri- 
ous to ourselves. There is a sweet feel- 
ing of security in committing our future 
way to him, with an entire dependence 
on his wisdom and goodness, and a 



JANE TAYLOR. 145 

cordial acquiescence in his appoint- 
ments." .... 

They passed the summer in Mrs. 
Grenfell's house, and then took lodgings 
elsewhere — agreeable ones, if we may 
judge, for she writes home : 

"The ease, tranquillity, and comfort 
of my present lot, so perfectly conge- 
nial to my temper and feelings, demand 
my constant thankfulness. It is no busi- 
ness of mine to inquire how long it will 
last. Long, I know, it will not last ; and 
this I feel so sensibly, that my anxiety 
for myself and my dear family lessens 
as it respects our prosperity in this 
world, and increases for better things — 
that it may be well with us all in the 
next." 

And again, in a letter to her mother : 

11 Notwithstanding the toil of writing, 
it has its pleasures ; and often, both this 
winter and last, when I have sat down 

Jane Taylor. lb 



146 JANE TAYLOR 

at ten o'clock, all alone, in oar snug par- 
lor, with a cheerful fire, and with noth- 
ing to interrupt me for four hours, I have 
really felt very happy. As to my wri- 
ting 'under disadvantageous circum- 
stances,' it is so far from being the case, 
that I am sure I can never expect to be 
more favored. All domestic cares, ex- 
cept just giving orders and settling my 
accounts, are completely taken off my 
hands by Mrs. Thomas ; the afternoon 
suffices for the needlework I have to do, 
and we are little interrupted by visit- 
ors, besides the rare privilege of having 
a room and fire quite to myself during 
the morning. I therefore cannot plead 
my present circumstances in excuse, 
either for the poverty or slowness of my 
writing, for I do actually what you de- 
scribe as so desirable, ' sit down com- 
posed and unembarrassed in my study.' 
Indeed, I cannot be sufficiently thankM 



JANE TAYLOR. 1 17 

for the large share of comfort I have 
enjoyed the last three years, with noth- 
ing to try my temper, and exempt from 
most of those unpleasant realities which 
- you mention as inseparable from the 
* charge of a household. But I do not 
wish to fly from family eares ; and one 
of the satisfactions of returning to you 
for a time would be that I might share 
them with you." 

Besides Miss Grenfell, Anne Max- 
well, who afterwards became the wife of 
Rev. Henry Lyte, some of whose sweet 
hymns have found their way over the 
waters; and the family of Rev. Melville 
Home, once missionary to Africa, then 
officiating at the Established church, ail 
earnest and devoted Christians, gave 
great interest to her life at Marazion. 
There was no dissenting chapel in the 

town, and the Taylors worshipped with 
Methodists or at the Established church. 



148 JANE TAYLOR. 

" We are surrounded by Metho- 
dists.," Jane tells us, "and have the 
opportunity of knowing what Methodism 
really is. We usually attend at their 
chapel. Their preachers appear to be 
zealous and devoted men, and their 
preaching well adapted to be useful to 
the class of persons who are their hear- 
ers. I have never anywhere before seen 
so general a profession of religion ; and 
there is every reason to believe it is 
more than a profession with many. A 
little romantic fishing town just oppo- 
site to us, across the bay, contains, we 
are told, a large society of experienced 
and fervent Christians ; and it is the 
case with many of the forlorn, desolate- 
looking villages in the neighborhood, 
that seem in all things else a century or 
two behind the rest of the world. . . . 

"I am indeed much inclined to be- 
lieve that the poor in every sense, the 



JANE TAYLOK. 149 

mentally poor, are generally the richest 
in faith— that they receive the gospel 
more simply as it is, without reasonings 
and disputings, and live upon it more 
entirely and more, happily. ... 

"You have indeed been led to the 
true, the only way of solving your diffi- 
culties on some of the deeper doctrines 
of religion. Every attempt to explain 
them has, to me, always rather increased 
than removed the difficulty and my own 
discouragement. But certainly I should 
not fly to Arminianism in order to escape 
from it. This system may indeed seem 
to remove the difficulty a step farther 
off; but there it meets us again, just the 
same as before, unless the omnipotence 
and omniscience of God be disputed. 
But let us wait ; it is but a little while, 
and we shall comprehend something of 
the depths of the wisdom and knowledge 
of God, though now 'unsearchable and 



150 JANE TAYLOR. 

past finding out/ How chilling are the 
very terms of controversy, and how un- 
like the language of the Bible. To live 
near to God, and to walk humbly with 
him, is the surest way of having our 
minds satisfied on these points. ' The 
secret of the Lord is with them that 
fear him: he will show them his cove- 
nant. 7 ?? 

Jane resumed her story, and late in 
the fall "Display" issued from the press. 
It was received with great favor, and 
the commendations bestowed by those 
whose judgment and sincerity could not 
be questioned, comforted and strength- 
ened the distrustful author. 

As to criticisms made on its strict- 
ness, she utters some wise words, not 
untimely for us in these days : 

"As to the dancing, I certainly did 
not think I had erred on the strict side; 
and I think I have observed the distinc- 



JANE TAYLOE. 151 

tion you mention, of not objecting to 
dancing in itself. The children at Stoke- 
ly, you may remember, were all dancing 
very merrily one evening. But, in fact, 
except with mere children, there is no 
such thing as 'select Christian dances. 7 
Go where you will, it is the world who 
dance, and the serious who do not. 

E= is an instance of what is said 

about Emily : her newly acquired reli- 
gion is so far from making her dull or 
precise, that there are many whom I 
have seen shake their heads at her 
youthful sprightliness. Yet, since she 
has been a Christian, she says she does 
not wish to dance, especially as it could 
not be without associating with those 
who think only about this world. As 
to what Mr. Leddenhurst says about 
' dancing through the world/ it is a re- 
mark I have heard made by those who 
are very far from being puritanical in 



152 JANE TAYLOR. 

their manners, or narrow in their views ; 
and I merely understand by it, that a 
person of a contemplative and serious 
turn of mind, impressed with the grand 
realities of religion, and intent upon 
remedying, as far as possible, the sin 
and misery of the world, will not be 
much disposed to go 'dancing through 
it.'" 

" What you told me in your last let- 
ter, made me almost envy the situation 
of those to whom religion appears as a 
glorious novelty, and who embrace it 
with all the ardor and gratitude and joy 
of a newly received message from heav- 
en. They who ' ' from their childhood 
have been taught the Holy Scriptures/ 
have, no doubt, their advantages ; but 
how liable are these advantages to be 
abused ! It often happens, I believe, 
that persons who have been long famil- 



JANE TAYLOK. 153 

iar with the name of Jesus as the sin- 
ner's friend, are shamed out of their 
coldness and negligence by the warmth 
and energy of those whose eyes are 
newly opened to behold him. 

" To inquiries such as those you make 
relative to your not having felt the 
strong convictions and the overwhelm- 
ing fears that many experience in the 
commencement of their religious course, 
I have heard the most judicious Chris- 
tians reply, that a holy walk with Grocl, 
a humble consciousness of preferring 
him and his service to any other thing, 
is a better and safer evidence of a real 
change of heart, than a reference to the 
most remarkable emotions of mind at 
any particular time. The Bible does 
not specify any certain measure of ter- 
ror, or any violent apprehensions of the 
Divine anger, as essential to true coiir 

version. ' Believe on the Lord Jesus 

20 



154 JANE TAYLOR. 

Christ, and thou shalt be saved, ' is its 
simple declaration ; and as the evidence 
that we do believe, and that our repent- 
ance is genuine, we must bring forth the 
'fruits of righteousness.' True sorrow 
for sin, flowing from a contemplation of 
Divine mercy, which is called in the 
Scriptures 'a broken heart,' is surely a 
more acceptable sacrifice than the most 
fearful apprehensions of Divine wrath." 
Jane employed her leisure at Mara- 
zion to much account. "Display 77 was 
no sooner disposed of, than she began a 
volume of "Essa} r s in Rhyme on Morals 
and Manners," which interested her own 
mind more than any thing she had ever 
written. "She was indeed almost lost 
to other interests," says her brother. 
" Uven her prevailing domestic tastes 
seemed forgotten, and in her daily walks 
she was often quite abstracted from the 
scene around her." 



JANE TAYLOR. 155 

Her religious views, which had ga ; ned 
in depth and clearness, were more forci- 
bly and vigorously expressed in the 
Essays, and she thus replies to the stric- 
tures of a friend to whom the manuscript 
was sent previous to its publication : 

"You will not be surprised, and I 
am sure you will not be offended, to see 
in how few instances I have availed my- 
self of your criticisms, if you consider 
the nature of them ; that is, how very 
few are merely literary. To that few I 
paid every attention ; most of them had 
been marked for correction either by 
myself or other friends ; but I was dis- 
appointed to find so few of that descrip- 
tion ; and still more, to find so many 
relating to matters of opinion, which you 
would expect me to give up. I cannot 
guess why the very same opinions, or 
creed, if you please, (for I know that is 
a word you are particularly fond of,) 



156 JANE TAYLOR. 

i 

which were, I believe, expressed with 
quite as much plainness in 'Display/ 
should offend you so much less there. 
You sa}^, indeed, that you have only 
remarked upon that style of language 
which refers to a party, not to a princi- 
ple ; but on the contrary, I found not a 
single note upon those few passages in 
which I write as a Dissenter. If you 
mean to call religious sentiment party, I 
shall not dispute the term with you. 
Christianity has had a great many ill 
names from its commencement till this 
day. But they have never done it the 
least harm, nor ever will. Do you think 
I would condemn you for using a prayer- 
book, or kneeling at an altar, for going 
under water, or even for wearing a 
broad brim? No. But as I would not 
make my creed narrower than that of 
the Bible, so I dare not make it wider. 
' There is no other name under heaven 



JANE TAYLOR. 157 

whereby we must be saved.' 'He that 
believes shall be sated; lie thai be- 
lieves Dot shall be damned.' This is 
all I would contend for, and all, I think, 
that I have contended for, as essential; 
and if it is to this you object, I fear not 
boldly to say that you are wrong. And 
my heart's desire and prayer is, that 
you may be led, as many a confident 
opposer lias been, to what I must still 
maintain to be 'the only place the feet 
of Jesus. 7 

" I think your prejudice, may I say 
your party spirit, (for never" does party 
spirit show itself so openly, or speak so 
narrowly, as when it embraces the skep- 
tical creed,) has got the better of your 
good taste in the present instance. Your 
taste is good when left to its free exer- 
cise; but in several of your criticisms f 
Scruple not to say you have, under the 
influence of other feelings, betrayed a 



158 JANE TAYLOR. 

very bad one. Where, for instance, you 
object to passages that are simple quo- 
tations from the Bible ; here I can speak 
quite confidently, in a literary view, 
that the effect of such quotations is good, 
and that they confer a dignity on the 
verse. Where, for instance, I have in- 
troduced almost literally those passages : 
' In thy presence is fulness of joy ;' ' in 
my Father's house are many mansions.' 
To call such language 'religious cant/ 
is, in my opinion, 'irreligious cant.' " 

Jane Taylor now began her regular 
contribution's to the Youth's Magazine, 
with some dread about the bondage of 
an engagement, lest writing "to order," 
whether she felt like it or not, might 
impair the sincere and genuine interest 
which she had taken in her work. Her 
objections, however, were overruled, 
and she found that habitual employment 
wrought as successfully, usefully, and 



JANE TAYLOR. 159 

pleasurably as spontaneous impulse and 
excitement. 

These articles, running through seven 
or eight years of her life, were after- 
wards collected in a small volume, en- 
titled the " Contributions of Q. Q." 
Clearly traced in them are the increas- 
ing depth and vigor of her Christian 
life, the result of her Cornwall sojourn. 
Many, we doubt not, can trace the seri- 
ous impressions of their early days to 
these wisely-put instructions. 

"Marazion, Sept. 19, 1815. 

"My dear Friend: It is quite time 
to ask you how you do once again upon 
paper, though, if you did but know it, I 
am very often making the inquiry in my 
thoughts. I have so many far distant 
and dear friends to think of now, that 
my thoughts are become quite expert at 
the business, and fly from Ongar to Both- 



160 JANE TAYLOK. 

erham, and from thence to Axminster, 
Bridport, or London, with wonderful 
ease and expedition. There was a pas- 
sage in your last letter which brought 
old days so forcibly and suddenly to my 
recollection, that it made my tears over- 
flow before I was aware. There is a 
long train of recollections, you know, 
connected with those days ; but they are 
over and gone ; all is settled, and well 
settled. For myself, as to external 
things, I was never so happy — I should 
rather say so comfortable, for that word 
best suits this world — as I am now. The 
last two years of my life have been so 
tranquil, so free from irritation, passed 
in a manner so suited to my taste and 
temper, with such a beloved and conge- 
nial companion ; they have been so oc- 
cupied with agreeable employments, and 
so enlivened at times by pleasant soci- 
ety, that I have often thought, should 



JANE TAYLOR. 161 

any thing occur to alter my present lot, 
I should look back upon it as the bright- 
est spot in my life. Ah, well. I hope 
I am in some degree willing to commit 
the future to One who knows how to 
control it, and who will certainly pro- 
long my present comfort, if it is for my 
good. 

"I heard from , a little news 

which did but serve to set off our perfect 
tranquillity to more advantage. . . . 

"Oh, what a world it is! Well indeed 
if we learn from such things to despise 
it in the right way, and to be looking 
toward a better country." 

" My dear Father and Mother : We 
thank you, dear father, for your kind 
remembrance of us. We need not such 
assurances of your affection ; but still 
they are gratifying, long as we have 
been banished from a nearer enjoyment 
of it. I never think without pain of the 

Jaa« Taylor. 2*1 



162 JANE TAYLOR. 

very long time out of our short life that 
we have been separated, especially from 
dear father's society, as for the best part 
of a twelvemonth before we left Colches- 
ter he was from home, and since our 
removal we have been almost entirely 
away ; so that our recollections of him 
are almost entirely confined to dear old 
engraving days ; and they will ever be 
among my most delightful recollections. 
I doubt not, that whenever we arc per- 
mitted to meet, we shall all see in each 
other that Time has not been still ; but 
I am sure from both your letters you 
think I suffer more from anxiety than I 
do. I have, like Mrs. Palmer, an ex- 
treme dislike of 'being uncomfortable, ' 
which generally disposes me to make 
the best of things ; so that rny letter 
gave you really a false idea if it made 
you think I 'was bowed down under a 
weight of cares.' 



JANE TAYLOK. 163 

" In her last letter Anne tells me that 
James Montgomery has seen my speci- 
mens. I could not repeat all the hand- 
some things he says of them, and only 
refer to his opinion as another weight in 
the scale. As a poet he is a judge, and 
is by no means given to flatter." 

To a young friend, she writes some 
golden words, as true and wise for us as 
for her : 

"From bitter experience, my clear 
Emma, I can warn you from indulging 
in that kind of discontent with yourself 
which, as a little self-examination will 
convince you, has its source in any thing 
rather than true humility. You mention 
jin your letter being in the habit of ma- 
king painful comparisons between your- 
self and your friends ; and so far as such 
comparisons tend to stimulate us to an 
imitation of their perfections, it is well j 
but it, too, has a contrary effect, and 



164 JANE TAYLOR. 

leads us to view our own real or sup- 
posed defects with fretful despondency. 
I would not put such an affront on your 
understanding, dear Emma, as to try to 
persuade you that you have no cause for 
dissatisfaction, though, from general ob- 
servation, I might say with perfect truth 
that you have no occasion for discour- 
agement, but that you possess many 
advantages, both personal and relative, 
which demand your gratitude. 

"But we are too apt, I fear, instead 
of looking within, to look without; and 
even when regarding the perfections of 
our most valued friends, are we not too 
apt to envy them the less important 
advantages, and those which are least 
attainable, rather than to emulate those 
solid advantages which are within our 
reach ? It is their beauty, their accom- 
plishments, their talents, their taste that 
we desire to possess ; while their piety, 



JANE TAYLOE. 1G5 

their usefulness, their sweetness, and 
humility are, attainable, if we pursue the 
same end and make the same sacrifices 
to attain them. Eeligion will not indeed 
do every thing for us. It will give us 
neither graces, nor accomplishments, nor 
taste ; but the blessings it offers are a 
humble mind, a meek and lowly spirit ; 
and it will enable us, not only with res- 
ignation, but with cheerfulness and grat- 
itude, to take an allotted portion, and 
will teach us. industriously to cultivate 
our one talent, if we have no more. 

"A large family is a large field for 
the exercise of all virtues, calling for 
self-denial, patience, and forbearance, 
and demanding our activity, kindness, 
and generosity ; and how much the com- 
fort of our future lives must depend on 
present conduct ! When our parents are 
no more, and every opportunity of show- 
ing them respectful attention and grate- 



166 JANE TAYLOK. 

ful love is over ; when our brothers and 
sisters are dispersed, and no longer re- 
quire our affectionate attention, it will 
be an unspeakable happiness if we can 
look back upon those days without pain- 
ful reflection or self-reproach. I said 
respectful attention ; respect is a word I 
am fond of, for if well attended to in a 
family, it will go a great way towards 
promoting its order and happiness. A 
respectful conduct should by no means 
be confined to strangers, where common 
politeness demands it, nor even to our 
parents and acknowledged superiors. 
The familiarity which breeds contempt 
should be carefully avoided even among 
brothers and sisters of equal ages. Af- 
fection loses its gracefulness without that 
accompanying respect which should 
never be lost sight of, even among per- 
fect equata ' Honor to whom honor is 
due' is a text well worth studying. 



JANE TAYLOK. 167 

You have a brother, and I am sure you 
are not insensible to this privilege. If 
you are really solicitous to reap benefit 
from his society, be not contented to 
love and admire him, but let the defer- 
ence you pay to his superiority influ- 
ence your conduct and your manner tow- 
ards him, and you will find it greatly 
promoting and dignifying your mutual 
affection." 

Again she writes Emma: "Self-dis- 
approbation, my dear, is the first step 
towards improvement ; without this, 
nothing can be done. Nor need any one 
be greatly discouraged even should they 
find much to be done. It should stimu- 
late to extra exertion, and by no means 
lead to despondency. From sad expe- 
rience I know the wide difference be- 
tween our planning and reforming : weak 
resolutions and half-efforts will never 
do. If we wish to amend, we must make 



168 JANE TAYLOR. 

up our minds to hard work; nothing but 
real fighting can insure victory. 

Cl You know far better than I on what 
your dissatisfaction is grounded ; it is 
not my business to inquire. I would 
only urge you by every argument not to 
rest contented at this critical period with 
careless complaints or faint endeavors, 
but to be absolute and prompt; and that 
the disease may not be 'healed slightly/ 
do not set about external reformations, 
nor rest satisfied till you really are what 
you would appear to be. Desire to be- 
come a sterling character ; and whether 
or not you excite the admiration of 
strangers, be ambitious to respect your- 
self, and to win the esteem of your best 
friends and nearest associates. A pre- 
vailing desire for admiration, if not 
wholly incompatible with moral and re- 
ligious improvement is, I believe, the 
greatest bar to it. 



JANE TAYLOR. 169 

"How encouraging too are the prom- 
ises of a new heart and a right spirit to 
those earnestly seeking them ; so that 
we have no right to despond. Only 
this must not tempt us to relax our own 
exertions. We must watch as well as 
pray, for heavenly arms are provided 
on purpose that we m&yjight with them." 



22 



170 JANE TAYLOK. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

In beautiful June, 1816, the brother 
and sister bade adieu to Marazion, with 
its balmy airs, sea-girt views, and Chris- 
tian friends, bending their steps slowly 
and circuitously towards home. In the 
journey Anne's new home was inclu- 
ded, and a six weeks 7 sojourn in York- 
shire yielded them the liveliest enjoy- 
ment. The home was all they could 
desire : affection within, agreeable so- 
ciety in the neighborhood, hearts and 
opportunities for Christian influence and 
usefulness. By the last of August, how- 
ever, she dates from Ongar, and thus 
describes her return : 

"I think my last was written from 
Sheffield. We soon after took a painful 
leave of our dear sister, and returned, 



JANE TAYLOR. 171 

after a three years' absence, to Ongar. 
Oh, what a pleasure it was to be wel- 
comed by kind parents to a home! Noth- 
ing could exceed their kindness and in- 
dulgence. And after so long an inter- 
val, we knew how to value this affection. 
They thought me not looking well ; and 
it has been my dear mother's constant 
business to nurse me up again during 
my stay. Our house stands alone in a 
pretty country. It is an old farm- 
house, more picturesque than splendid, 
and therefore it suits both our tastes 
and our fortunes. All my love of na- 
ture returned in a scene so well adapted 
to excite it; and it was delightful to see 
our dear father and mother enjoying, in 
their declining years, so peaceful a re- 
treat, and wishing for no other pleasures 
than their house and garden and their 
mutual affection afford. 

" I wish this fine morning," she writes 



172 JANE TAYLOE. 

to another, "I could take a turn with 
you in your pleasant garden, and talk 
instead of write ; or rather, if wishing 
were of any avail, I would wish that 
you could take a turn with me in mine, 
which I think you would enjoy. I must, 
however, tell you something of our move- 
ments. We stayed a fortnight longer with 
Anne than we proposed ; the time passed 
pleasantly, and we were unwilling to 
part. I think, however, you, who know 
my taste for retirement and my dislike 
of general company, would have pitied 
me if you had seen the continued bustle 
of visiting with which my time was oc- 
cupied. The contrast with our mode of 
life at Marazion was as great as it could 
be ; perhaps the total change of scene 
was what I needed. 

" On the 13th of August we left Eoth- 
erham, and in a few days reached our 
clear paternal home, after an absence of 



JANE TAYLOK. 173 

three years. It was indeed a joyful 
meeting. And when, that evening, we 
once more knelt around the family altar, 
I believe our hearts glowed with grati- 
tude to Him who had permitted us thus 
to assemble in peace and comfort, and 
had disappointed all our fears. Here 
we are again in complete retirement; 
and a sweeter retreat I do not wish for. 
We are nearly a mile from the town, and 
surrounded with the green fields. The 
house is an old-fashioned place, with a 
pretty garden, which it is the delight of 
my father and mother to cultivate. At 
the door is a rural porch, covered with 
a vine. Here we are rarely interrupted 
by any one ; and although only twenty 
miles from the great world, we enjoy the 
most delightful seclusion. The rooms 
are large and pleasant, and the whole 
has exactly that rural air which we all 
so much admire." 



174 JANE TAYLOR. 

It was at this time that Jane and her 
mother began the "Correspondence be- 
tween a Mother and a Daughter at 
School," for the Youth's Magazine — a 
series of articles full of good sense and 
that remarkable insight of character 
which distinguishes her. 

To Miss S G : 



"Ongak, August 23, 1817. 

"My dear S : When I heard of 

your being suddenly summoned to at- 
tend your brother, I felt an immediate 
desire to write to you — not from the idle 
expectation that I could say any thing 
i to lessen your uneasiness, but from a 
feeling of true sympathy which similar- 
ity of circumstances awakened. I asked 
for your address when I wrote to Anne, 
but was still dubious whether to trouble 
you with a letter, when the arrival of 
yours quite determined me. I thank 
you for it, and I thank you still more 



JANE TAYLOR. 175 

for finding any pleasure in writing to 
me, and for the assurances of your kind 
recollections. They are, I assure you, 
acceptable. I have learned to value a 
little love more than many times the 
quantity of praise; and when I receive 
expressions of affection from any one 
who I know in some degree understands 
me, and who has had opportunity of ob- 
serving many of my faults, I feel both 
obliged and comforted. 

"I was truly glad to hear a better 
account of your brother's health. I 
think you cannot yet have felt more 
desponding than I have formerly done 
about my brother. For a considerable 
time I was quite persuaded that he could 
not recover ; and whenever I allowed 
myself to entertain any hope, I felt all 
the time a secret conviction that it was 
wilful flattery. Yet now — I would say 
it with thankfulness — he is so far recov- 



17 6 JANE TAYLOK. 

ered as to remove all immediate anxi- 
ety. I know not whether there is any 
thing encouraging to you in this ; but it 
is encouraging to know that the same 
almighty Friend who spoke the healing 
word in one case can do so in another ; 
and assuredly will, if it be really desira- 
ble. He who is ' the same yesterday, 
to-day, and for ever' still regards the 
prayers and tears of a sorrowing sister. 
I used very often to say : ' Lord, if thou 
art here my brother shall not die ;' and 
I used to try to add : ' Thy will be done ;' 
and if ever I can say this with sincerity, 
it is when I take pains to reflect on the 
wisdom and goodness of God, and think 
how certainly what he does is best. And 
even with respect to the spiritual inter- 
ests of beloved friends, where certainly 
acquiescence in disappointment is most 
difficult — perhaps in this world impossi- 
ble — even in this case there is great con- 



JANE TAYLOK. 177 

solation in recollecting that the Judge of 
all the earth will do right. We are not 
more benevolent or more compassionate 
than he ; and it is with this simple per- 
suasion that I find it easiest to repel 
those hard and rebellious thoughts of 
God which certain passages to which 
you allude are so apt to excite. We 
may be sure that if we put any con- 
struction upon them that is in any way 
injurious to the Divine character in our 
minds, it is — it must be — a false construc- 
tion. I think there is greater encour- 
agement to pray for the salvation of 
those dear to us than for any thing ex- 
cept our own 

" I am sorry to hear of the unpleas- 
ant circumstances at . People will 

never understand that it is not religion, 
but irreligion, that causes these mischiefs. 
If ' the children of God are peace-ma- 
kers,' surely the breakers of peace can- 

Jane Taylor. 23 



178 JANE TAYLOR. 

not claim him for their Father. I re- 
member Miss , and that she was 

what you describe. I knew one in still 

humbler life at , of the same sort. 

She was a servant in the house we oc- 
cupied there for a few months — a Meth- 
odist ; and of such slender abilities that 
she could rarely understand a common 
order till it had been repeated once or 
twice. Yet she was indeed ' wise unto 
salvation. 7 Her conversation — perfectly 
unaffected and unassuming — was, on re- 
ligious subjects, enlightened and edify- 
ing. Her plain face beamed till it was 
beautiful with Christian love and peace. 
I remember her with affection and re- 
spect. How strange it seems, that in 
Christian societies so few should be 
found who thus ' adorn the doctrine they 
profess in all things.' Nothing is more 
discouraging than such a state of things. 
But in one sense we have nothing to do 



JANE TAYLOR. 17!) 

except with ourselves. I Four own lamps, 
be not burning, we might find better em- 
ployment than to lament Hie lukewarm- 
ness of others." 

Jane's religious belief had long been 
settled. Jler life corresponded to it. Be- 
sides her distinct choice, all her predilec- 
tions, leanings, inspirations, desires, and 
associations were; on the side of Christ. 
Yet she failed to appropriate to her- 
self that comfort in the hope set before 
us which it is the believer's peculiar 
privilege to enjoy ; consequently, her 
hope had always been trembling and 
afraid. 

Faint she was, yet always pursuing. 
" A duty-Christian/' as some one called 
liis friend who, with grave fidelity, did 
liis Master's work with little present 
comfort or future; hope. But the joy 
came;. Singleness, sincerity, and fidel- 
ity never lose their reward, They are 



180 JANE TAYLOR. 

crowned at last with a great rejoU 
cing. 

It was so with Jane. 

"My mother told you," she wrote 
her sister, "of my having joined the 
church. You may have supposed that 
I was frightened into it by my com- 
plaint ; but I feel thankful that this was 
not the case ; for it was not till after I 
had consulted Mr. Clyne that I felt any 
alarm about it ; nor had I before any 
idea of its being of a formidable kind. 
Mv mind, all the summer, had been 
much in the state it has been in for 
years past ; that is, unable to apply the 
offer of the gospel to myself, and all 
confusion and perplexity when I at- 
tempted to do so. One evening — about 
three weeks before going to London for 
advice — while alone in my room, and 
thinking on the subject, I saw by an in- 
stantaneous light that God would, for 



JANE TAYLOR. 181 

Christ's sake, forgive my sins. The ef- 
fect was so powerful that I was almost 
dissolved by it. I was unspeakably hap- 
py. I believe that had I died that mo- 
ment I should have been safe. Though 
the strength of the emotion soon abated, 
the effect in a great degree remained. 
A fortnight afterwards I told Isaac what 
had taken place, and he urged me to be 
proposed immediately to the church. It 
was in this state I went to London ; and 
when I heard what was to me wholly 
unexpected, I could not but consider 
the change in my feelings as a most kind 
and timely preparation for what, but a 
few weeks before, would have over- 
whelmed me with consternation and 
distress. As it was, I heard it with 
great composure, and my spirits did not 
at all sink till after I returned home. 
Since then I have had many despond- 
ing hours from the fear of death. The 



182 JANE TAYLOK. 

happiness I enjoyed for a short time has 
given place to a hope which, though faint, 
secures me from distress.' 7 

She joined the Ongar church, under her 
father's pastoral care, in October, 1817 ; 
and though active religious labors were 
not easy from early habit, nor did they 
suit her natural tastes, yet she promptly 
engaged in them as she had strength and 
opportunity, from a deep conviction that 
Christians should not live "to please 
themselves," but be "always abounding 
in the work of the Lord." 

Serious premonitions of the disease — 
induration of the heart — which ended 
her days, had disclosed themselves. 
No immediate clanger caused alarm 
either to Jane or her friends, only the 
"occasional pain" which kept alive 
anxiety. 

"But I endeavor to cast this care on 
God," she says, "and especially to im- 



JANE TAYLOK. 183 

press on my mind that if ever the most 
sanguine hopes of recovery should be 
realized, it would make no essential dif- 
ference in my prospects. There is no 
cure for mortality. Supreme regard to 
my eternal interests is absolutely neces- 
sary, independent of all immediate con- 
siderations. Yet I feel the benefit of 
this perpetual monitor, and pray that 
its voice may not be heard in vain. 
How encouraging the simple promise, 
' Ask, and ye shall receive,' especially 
when we reflect that God, who cannot 
lie, has given it to us. And it encour- 
ages us to ask not only for salvation 
from the wrath to come, or for just grace 
enough to save us at last, with which it- 
would be easy to be contented, but for 
great spiritual blessings, eminent spirit- 
uality of mind — a mind ' hid with Christ 
in God, 7 so as to have at last an abun- 
dant entrance into the kingdom of God." 



184 JANE TAYLOK. 

"London, May 20, 1819. 

"I am come to London for a few 
days to execute some home-commissions. 
These fine showers that are making the 
hills and vales rejoice are making Lon- 
don more dreary than usual ; and they 
confine me to a dull apartment, where, 
in rather lower spirits than are common 
to me even in London, I sit clown in 
perfect solitude to seek your distant 
society. My brother is out for the 
whole day on business. Solitude in the 
country is sweet ; but in London it is 
forlorn indeed. So you see all things 
conspire to make this a very animated 
composition ! 

" My health has not been so good this 
spring as during the past winter and 
summer. For this there is 'a needs-be.' 
But though I believe these continual 
warnings to be good and necessary, yet 
fear seems to have an unfavorable influ- 



JANE TAYL0K. 185 

ence upon my mind, inasmuch as I am 
to suspect the genuineness of prayer that 
is rendered more fervent than usual by 
an apprehension of danger. I feel re- 
gret unspeakable in looking back upon 
those past years of health and vigor that 
were devoted to self-pleasing. And yet 
is there not ' all consolation 1 and conso- 
lation for all in the unqualified offers of 
the gospel and in the simplicity of its dec- 
larations, ' Daughter, be of good cheer, 
thy sins, which are many, are forgiven 
thee?' What needs one more than this? 
and surely nothing less will do — not at 
least for those who are obliged by some 
threatening disease to realize their own 
mortality, and to look at eternity as 
those who are in sound health cannot 
see it. In comparing the temperature 
of my feelings with yours, I was discour- 
aged ; yet I know that religion does not 

alter the constitution of the mind any 

24 



186 JANE TAYLOR 

more than that of the body. In you 
ardent and energetic, in me languid and 
phlegmatic, it would never assume the 
same appearances. They, however, are 
doubtless the happiest Christians, the 
constitution of whose minds is the most 
favorable to the life of religion. But I 
feel that these considerations will not 
serve as an excuse for me, seeing that 
1 God is able to make all grace abound 
to us also.' " 

''Monday morning. I heard yester- 
day three good sermons That in 

the evening by a plain Methodist preach- 
er — the best, I thought, of the three ; 
that is, the most to the grand purpose 
of preaching. Why do not we hear 
such sermons oftener ? Some ministers 
appear to be under an unaccountable 
infatuation, as if they were afraid or 
ashamed to come to the point ; as if ev- 
ery subject connected with religion were 



JANE TAYLQE. 187 

to be discussed in preference to that 
which is the foundation of all — as if they 
would rather direct their hearers to any 
surrounding objects than immediately 
to ' the Lamb of God, that takes away 
the sin of the world.' How little do 
they consider the disappointment they 
occasion to those of their congregations 
who go, Sabbath after Sabbath, hunger- 
ing; for 'the bread of life' — who need 
the consolations of the gospel! 

"It is not strange that the wicked 
should go on in their wickedness ; but is 
it not strange that those who know any 
thing of religion should not adorn it 
more? This is the discouragement. Yet 
perhaps there are many 'hidden ones' 
who, unknown to their fellow- Chris- 
tians, are living near to God, while 
those who stand foremost in the church 
are content ' to follow Christ afar off.' 
. . . . I rejoice to hear from a mutual 



188 JA«NE TAYLOR. 

friend that you are actively engaged in 
doing good. There is something stimu- 
lating in reading Paul's salutations to 
the good women of his acquaintance. 
He evidently singles out those for spe- 
cial notice who were most active and 
zealous in good works : ' Priscilla, his 
helper in Jesus Christ;' 'Mary, who 
bestowed much labor on them ;' ' Phebe, 
a succorer of many.' While we may 
imagine that his more general remem- 
brance — ' to all the saints that are with 
you ' — refers to others a little resem- 
bling those modern professors of Chris- 
tianity of whom charity is bound to 
'hope all things.' 

" This increase of piety in our dearest 
friends is real prosperity ; and when we 
think prosperity of any other kind very 
desirable, we forget ourselves, and view 
the world unwisely." 



JANE TAYLOK. 189 

To Mks. W (Miss E. M .) 

"Ongab, September 14, 1819. 

"I truly rejoice with you in the 
happiness of seeing another of those 
most clear to you ' walking in the truth.' 
There is indeed no greater joy than this. 
2his is family prosperity . How weak is 
our faith when we suffer anxiety for any 
other kind of success to exceed the de- 
sire for the endless happiness of those 
we love ! and how little do we feel like 
Christians, when we are surprised and 
mortified to see them encountering those 
trials and disappointments which we 
know to be the most usual and effectual 
means of promoting spiritual life. I 
have just received an account of the 
severe trial of one of whom, judging as 
the world judges, one should say that 
severe affliction was not needed. But 
God sees not as man ; those whom he 
loves best he ordinarily chastens most, 



190 JANE TAYLOR. 

that they may be ' seven times refined/ 
• To him that hath shall be given, that 
he may have abundantly.' .... 

"Poor Mrs. , what an unhappy 

life must hers be ! unspeakably more 
unhappy than it would be if she were 
wholly destitute of that 'little religion. 7 
as it is called, that she has ! To see 
age tenaciously clinging to the rece- 
ding world is the most melancholy and 
disgusting sight this evil world pre- 
sents 

"In so small a society as that with 
which we are connected here, zeal, for 
want of stimulus, is apt to sink into total 
torpor. In this respect there are ad- 
vantages in living in a large town, where 
the zeal of the few keeps the lukewarm- 
ness of the many from freezing. I feel 
heavily the peculiar responsibility that 
attaches to me as a single woman, re- 
membering that of such it should be said 



JANE TAYLOR. 191 

that ' she careth for the things of the 
Lord f while, partly from indolence and 
partly from a sort of infelicity in dealing 
with others, I am too apt to recoil from 
those very duties which seem to lie most 
in my way. ' She hath done what she 
could,' is a sentence which often strikes 
painfully on my conscience. It is high 
praise ; and what sacrifice can be too 
great to deserve it ?" 

The orphan family of a friend, James 
Medland, Esq., of Newington, came in 
for a large share of her affection and 
counsel during those later years. Eliz- 
abeth, the second daughter, had still 
stronger claims on her as the dear and 
intimate friend of her brother Isaac, 
whom she afterwards married. 

A letter addressed to Sarah Medland 
and her sisters and brothers, written 
from Ongar, August, 1822, is running 



192 JANE TAYLOE. 

over with that loving solicitude which ex- 
perienced and faithful hearts feel for new 
hands entering on the great work of life : 
"As my time is much limited, I can- 
not devote much of it to subjects of infe- 
rior moment, but will speak at once on 
that which is all-important, and in which 
all other advices are included. But I 
know not where to begin, or how to find 
language to express the sense of this 
boundless subject. No language, in- 
deed, can do this, and therefore we find 
in the Scriptures no attempt is made 
beyond the most plain and simple state- 
ments, but which are, on that very ac- 
count, the most striking. What can add 
fervor to the question, ' What shall it 
profit a man if he gain the whole world 
and lose his own soul?' Yes, my dear 
friends, there is very great danger, not- 
withstanding all the warnings and admo- 
nitions we receive ; there is very great 



JANE TAYLOR. 193 

danger of losing our souls. It is so easy 
to pass on from one stage of life to an- 
other, from youth to age, with good inten- 
tions towards religion, and with a com- 
mon, respectable attention to it, without 
once coming to the point, without once 
tasting the happiness of a good hope, or 
enjoying the supreme satisfaction of ma- 
king a full surrender of our hearts and 
lives to God. Multitudes of the profes- 
sors of religion thus live and thus die — 
making their comfort and prosperity in 
this life their chief object of pursuit, and 
paying only so much attention to reli- 
gion as they deem absolutely necessary to 
escape eternal destruction. But this is 
not Christianity as the Scriptures de- 
scribe it ; and it is surprising that, with 
the Bible in their hands, any person can 
make so great a mistake about it. If 
God has not our hearts, we are not his — 
he will accept nothing less. If our affec- 

Jane Taylor. 25 



194 JANE TAYLOR. 

tions are not in heaven, we shall never 
reach it. 

"I remember that, during my youth, 
I was for many years greatly discour- 
aged, and almost in despair at last, on 
this account — feeling the impossibility 
of bringing my earthly mind to prefer 
spiritual things ; to love God better than 
the world. At length, in a letter from 
a pious friend, I was reminded that this 
great work, though impossible to me, 
was easy to Him, and that he had prom- 
ised to do it for all who ask. Prom that 
time my difficulties began to yield. I 
saw how absurd it was to doubt the prom- 
ise of God, and that it was in respect 
to these very difficulties that he says: 
'Seek, and ye shall find.' So that I be- 
gan to see with unspeakable joy that the 
hardness, reluctance, and earthliness of 
my heart were no real obstacles, provi- 
ded that I did but apply to him for a 



JANE TAYLOH. 195 

cure. Yes, to cast ourselves entirely on 
God to do all for us, in the diligent use 
of means, is the sure, the only way to 
obtain th'e benefit, But it is surprising 
what reluctance there is in the mind to 
do this, and how ready we are to try 
every other means first; especially we 
are unwilling to come by a simple act 
of faith to the Saviour, and to accept 
from him a remedy for all the evils of 
our nature; although there is no other 
way, how much labor is often lost for 
want of this. Come to him, my dear 
friends, and ' he will not cast you out.' 
lie declares he will not; and come as 
you are. It is Satan's constant artifice 
to persuade us that we must wait till we 
arc fit to come; and as this faith that 
believes and lives, however simple, is 
the gift of God, pray incessantly, impor- 
tunately, till you receive it. 

"I am sure you are all convinced 



196 JANE TAYLOR. 

already that delay, neglect, or indiffer- 
ence in religion is the greatest folly, the 
deepest cruelty we can practise towards 
ourselves, as it respects our interests in 
the future world. And indeed it is so 
as to this world too. I have seen some- 
thing more of life than you ; and I have 
lived long enough to see that promise in 
numerous instances fulfilled, that ' they 
who seek first the kingdom of God' have 
other things added to them in a more 
especial and desirable way than those 
who make them the primary object. I 
am firmly convinced that, taking the 
whole of life together, the most pious 
and devoted persons, such as made an 
early and complete surrender of heart 
and life to God, have most real pros- 
perity and success in this world, as well 
as infinitely more enjoyment of earthly 
good. But really this is a point scarcely 
worth proving, when the interests of a 



JANE TAYLOR. 197 

boundless futurity are concerned ; yet 
as it is one of the chief illusions of ' the 
father of lies' to persuade persons that, 
in becoming decidedly religious, they 
_must sacrifice the choicest pleasures of 
life, and that God's ways are not ' ways 
of pleasantness,' it is desirable to expose 
the falsehood. All the real and reason- 
able enjoyments of life are entirely com- 
patible not only with an ordinary pro- 
fession of religion, but with the highest 
spirituality of mind, and are generally 
sweetened by it, if kept in their subor- 
dinate place ; and as for the rest— the 
gayety, the vanity, the evil tempers, the 
restless desires of a worldly heart, its 
selfishness and frowardness, and all those 
indulgences which are forbidden to us — 
they are as certainly destructive of our 
true interests and happiness here as of 
our eternal happiness. Of this truth 
experience too late convinces the most 



198 JANE TAYLOR. 

successful votaries of this world. But 
let us rise above these lower considera- 
tions. The question is, x\re we desirous 
to secure the salvation of our souls ? 
And it is impossible to fix a steady 
thought on eternity without being so. 
Then let us take the Bible for our rule, 
and never rest till we have a scriptural 
foundation for our hope ; nor till our 
life, as well as our creed, is conformed 
to its precepts and examples. Allow 
me then to mention those means which 
are most essential to the attainment of 
this happiness. 

11 To use means is our part; it is a 
comparatively easy part ; and if we will 
not even do this, it shows that we are 
not at all in earnest on the subject. I 
will mention then, as the first and the 
last — as that which is indispensable to 
our making any progress in religion — 
daily, constant, private prayer . I am aware 



JANE TAYLOR. 199 

that where this habit has not been formed 
very early, there may be a sort of awk- 
wardness and false shame felt in the 
commencement of it in a family ; but it 
is false shame, which a little effort will 
conquer, and a short time entirely re- 
move. I believe you know that it was 
my intention to have recommended this 
practice to you, if not already adopted ; 
and now I cannot feel satisfied without 
doing so ; for if ever I was sure that I 
was giving good advice, I am sure of it 
in this instance ; and I will, I must most 
cordially request your attention to it. 
Perhaps some of you might reply that, 
seldom feeling inclined to prayer, it 
would generally be a formal and heart- 
less service ; but this is the very rea- 
son why it must never be neglected. 
This reluctance to spiritual engagements 
is what the best of Christians have to 
combat with ; and it can only be over- 



200 JANE TAYLOE. 

come by prayer. If then you are to 
wait till you are of yourselves so dis- 
posed, depend upon it you would pass 
through life and plunge into eternity in 
a prayerless state ; and although you 
may often engage in private devotion 
with little feeling and no apparent ben- 
efit, yet there is one certain advantage 
gained by it, namely, that the habit is 
strengthened ; and as we are creatures 
of habit, and God has made us so, he re- 
quires us to avail ourselves of its impor- 
tant advantages. If there is any one 
thing more than another among the many 
privileges of a religious education for 
which I feel thankful, it is the having 
been trained from my early years to 
retire morning and evening for this pur- 
pose. I found that a habit thus early 
and strongly formed was not easily bro- 
ken through, notwithstanding all the van- 
ity of my youthful years ; and however 



JANE TAYLOE. 201 

much I have to lament the abuse of it, 
yet if ever I have known any thing of 
religion, it is to the closet that I must 
trace it; and I believe that universal 
experience testifies that our comfort and 
progress in the divine life are entirely 
regulated by the punctuality and fer- 
vency of our engagements there. There 
is no need that the exercise should be 
tedious ; a short portion of scripture, 
read with thought, and a few simple 
sentences uttered with the whole heart, 
are far preferable to a much longer 
address, in which the same heartless 
phraseology is continually repeated. 
But as your desires enlarge, so will 
your petitions ; and the more you are 
in earnest, the less liable you will be 
to fall into hackneyed and formal ex- 
pressions. 

"There is another practice which, next 
to prayer and reading the Scriptures, I 

20 



202 JANE TAYLOR. 

have found most profitable ; I mean read- 
ing once every day, at the time either of 
morning or evening retirement, a few 
pages of some pious book — selecting for 
this purpose, not the light productions 
of the day, but the writings of the most 
eminently useful and impressive authors. 
Christian biography, also, is peculiarly 
profitable. This custom need not add 
more than ten minutes to the time of 
retirement ; and it is, I think, one of the 
very best means for retaining a daily 
impression of serious things. Habit, 
also — try it for one month, and see if it 
is not so — will render this pleasant, even 
though it should seem irksome at first. 
If you will excuse my entering into such 
minute particulars — which I should not 
do on any other subject — I will add that 
the most advantageous time for the pur- 
poses I have recommended is not that of 
retiring for the night ; drowsiness will 



JANE TAYLOR. 203 

generally invade us then ; besides, few 
young people can be quite alone at that 
time, and a prayer said by the bedside, 
with a companion present, is not — I 
might almost say cannot be personal 
prayer. It is a good, I will call it a 
blessed custom, for a family to disperse 
to their respective places of retirement 
half an hour before supper. Nor is it, 
you must be aware, from my own expe- 
rience alone that I recommend it ; for it 
is a practice which I know to be strictly 
observed by all my pious friends, and 
which I have remarked in every serious 
family in which I ever visited. As to 
the morning, it is highly desirable that 
it should take place before breakfast, as 
afterwards it interferes with other du- 
ties, and is in great danger of being quite 
neglected. Besides, it is as essential to 
the health of the body as of the soul to 
rise at least early enough for such a pur- 



204 JANE TAYLOK. 

pose. I fear I shall tire you, and will 
mention but one other thing, and that 
is, the advantage of a more particular 
improvement of Sabbath evenings, as 
the time most suitable for longer re- 
tirement and deeper though tfulness than 
the engagements of other days will 
admit. 

"My dear friends, be not contented 
with low aims and small attainments in 
religion ; they are indeed fearful signs 
of insincerity ; or, at best, proceed from 
a merely slavish fear of the consequen- 
ces of quite neglecting it. Oh, do aspire 
to something beyond an ordinary repu- 
table profession of it. Here ambition is 
sanctified. Determine to number your- 
selves among the happy few ; and do not 
be discouraged by difficulties, nor think 
it too much for you to attain. It is not 
humility, but inactivity and desponden- 
cy, that leads us to think so. God will 



JANE TAYLOR. 205 

give us all the grace and strength and 
ability we really desire and ask for. 

"And let me affectionately recom- 
mend you early to seek to be engaged 
in some sphere of active usefulness. 
Doing good is the most excellent means 
of getting good. There is no mistake 
greater than to suppose that we are sent 
into the world only to attend, however 
industriously, to our own personal or 
even family interests. Love to our 
neighbor demands our active exertions 
in his behalf; and we are all required, 
more or less, ' to go and work in the 
vineyard. 7 We have all a talent in- 
trusted to us; and what shall we say 
when our Lord comes, if we have not 
improved it? Did you never remark, 
in reading the sixteenth chapter of the 
Epistle to the Romans, how St. Paul, in 
his salutations, particularizes those who 
were most zealously engaged in good 



206 JANE TAYLOE. 

works — ' Phebe, a servant of the church, 
and a succorer of many j' 'Priscilla and 
Aquila, his helpers in Christ;' 'Mary, 
who bestowed much labor on them ;' 
' Persis, who labored much in the Lord ' — 
while he passes over with a slight re- 
membrance, or notes with censure, oth- 
ers, who 'minded only their own things, 
and not the things that are Jesus 
Christ's. 7 It must have been gratifying 
to have been thus distinguished by the 
apostle ; but oh how much more so to be 
approved by Him who, for our good, 
requires these services from us, and to 
hear him say at last, 'Well done, good 
and faithful servant !' We should suffer 
no day to pass without thinking of and 
acting for that day when we shall be 
'judged according to our works,' as the 
evidences of our faith ; and very en- 
couraging is that kind and considerate 
expression of our Lord concerning a poor 



JANE TAYLOR. 207 

woman, showing that he is no hard mas- 
ter, and not unreasonable in his requi- 
sitions : ' She hath done what she could.' 
But how few of us deserve this praise ! 
I am persuaded you would find useful 
activity one of the best preservatives 
against the innumerable temptations to 
which, as youth advances, you will be 
exposed. How many young persons 
have blessed God that ever they were 
led to engage in Sunday-school teach- 
ing. It profitably occupies the time 
which, if wasted in frivolity and in- 
dulgence, leads to the worst conse- 
quences ; and in teaching others, a 
double blessing often descends upon 
the teacher. 

" With regard to our conduct, whether 
at home or abroad, we cannot mistake 
if we will but follow the precepts of Scrip- 
ture in their plain and literal sense. This 
is too much neglected ; strangely neglect- 



208 JANE TAYLOR. 

ed, even by those who profess to make 
the Bible their rule. If we had no other 
directions whatever for our conduct than 
those contained in that beautiful chap- 
ter, the twelfth to the Romans, it would 
make a heaven of earth, were they but 
attended to. It is an excellent chapter 
to read very often, and deeply and daily 
to study. It would make a little para- 
dise of any society or family where its 
spirit was imbibed ; and after all, it is 
at home — in the bosom of our families, 
in our daily and hourly tempers and 
conduct — that we have the best oppor- 
tunity of practising holy obedience to 
the commandments of Christ. Keeping 
these commandments, ' which are not 
grievous ' — though we are prone to think 
they are till we try — implies a contin- 
ual exercise of self-denial; and if we 
are conscious that we make no such sac- 
rifices — that we are not in the habit of 



JANE TAYLOR. 200 

denying ourselves — it is plain that we 
are not following him at all ; for those 
who do must bear some cross. There 
is, indeed, something in the very sound 
of the word self-denial which alarms our 
indolence, indulgence, pride, and wilful- 
ness ; but it is a false alarm ; for these 
very qualities — indolence, indulgence, 
pride, and wilfulness — are the greatest 
enemies to our peace and happiness ; 
and one day's experience is enough to 
show that, in proportion as they are 
resisted and mortified, we are comforta- 
ble, tranquil, and happy. 

"May God bless you all, and lead ev- 
ery one of you safely through this. dan- 
gerous world to his eternal rest! This 
is the earnest hope, and will be the fre- 
quent prayer, of your sincere and affec- 
tionate friend, j, x." 



Jana Taylor. £( 



210 JANE TAYLOR. 



CHAPTEE IX. 

Jane's interests and affections cen- 
tred very much in Ongar during the 
rest of her life, though frequent visits 
and journeys drew her away, chiefly at 
the solicitation of friends, who urged 
that change of scenes and social pleas- 
ures were among the best means of re- 
cruiting if not recovering her health. 

"But I find," she says, "that home 
is the place which suits me best.' 7 

Amid all the usual alternations of 
hope and fear, her disease slowly and 
steadily gained on her. 

"And it requires much,' 7 she says, 
"utterly to extinguish the hope of re- 
covery." 

Yet her chief anxiety related to a 
hope of the better life beyond. The 



JANE TAYLOR. 211 

doubts which now cast their shadows on 
her, if doubts they were, arose from her 
high standard of Christian character. A 
full and free salvation she clearly ap- 
prehended ; but from want of a suffi- 
ciently explicit and authoritative expo- 
sition of the law of Christ, she felt the 
gospel was often fatally abused by the 
professedly Christian world. And she 
rejoiced in the glad tidings with trem- 
bling, unless accompanied with a fear- 
less and uncompromising declaration of 
the truth, that every one shall receive 
" according to their works." 

"I have no doubt," she often said to 
her brother, "as to the way of salva- 
tion ; it lies upon the surface of the 
Scriptures ; but those who shall receive 
the benefit of this free salvation, and 
who shtill be accounted worthy to stand 
before the throne, are those who on earth 
are meet for heaven by being truly like 



212 JANE TAYLOR. 

Christ; and am I — are the mass of those 
of whom we are accustomed to think 
well — are they like Christ ?" 

And who will not sa}^ if this be error, 
it is at least erring on the safe side ? 

If Jane felt her own literary aspira- 
tions extinguishing, we can well fancy 
them kindling anew in her brother Isaac. 
Their friend Josiah Condor was at that 
time editor of the Eclectic Beview, then 
in the zenith of its fame, with Eobert 
Hall, John Foster, and Olinthus Greg- 
ory among its able supporters. An- 
other thinker was added when Isaac 
Taylor joined its staff of contributors. 

His first independent venture was 
made in 1822, in a small volume, called 
" Elements of Thought," succeeded by a 
new translation of the "Characters of 
Theophrastus," accompanied by pictorial 
renderings of the characters, drawn and 
etched by himself. And since Jane's 



JANE TAYLOR. 213 

pen was slowly slipping out of her hand, 
we can see how her fine sympathies and 
intellectual keenness were kept in vigor 
by daily participation in the congenial 
pursuits of one so dear to her. 

In the autumn of 1823, accompanied 
by Isaac and Elizabeth Medland, she 
spent a few weeks at Margate, visited 
several friends, walked in Cowper's gar- 
den, and was returning, much invigora- 
ted, home, when an unusual exposure to 
wet and rain imperilled the benefit of 
the trip. Still at her desk, we find her 
writing to Elizabeth's young brother, 
then at school : 

" I have heard with very great pleas- 
ure, dear John, the good accounts that 
have reached your sister respecting your 
conduct at school, and hope you will 
feel ambitious to maintain this good 
character. We all know that it is easier 
to set out well, while there is the stiru- 



214 JANE TAYLOB. 

ulus of novelty to excite us, than stead- 
ily to persevere in a good course ; yet I 
need not remind you that nothing short 
of such steady perseverance in well- 
doing will avail any thing to your real 
advantage ; and it is this alone that truly 
merits praise. You cannot therefore 
guard too carefully against the first 
small temptations that may present 
themselves, of whatever kind. If these 
are yielded to, others more powerful 
will quickly follow ; and thus, for want 
of a little timely effort, every good res- 
olution may eventually fail. 'He that 
despise th small things shall fall by little 
and little.' 

"It has been frequently remarked 
that pupils who show most quickness and 
make most progress in their studies, are 
the least worthy of praise in other and 
more important respects. Dear John, 
do not let this be your case ; never be 



JANE TAYLOK. 215 

content with half a character, but be 
still more ambitious to distinguish your- 
self for obedience, gentleness, kindness, 
and a resolute resistance to all you know 
to be wrong, remembering that brillian- 
cy, unconnected with goodness, proves 
a curse rather than a blessing. 

" On the other hand, let me remind 
you of the importance of diligently im- 
proving your present opportunities for 
acquiring knowledge. 

"How valuable it is, and how glad 
you will be of it in future, you can 
scarcely at present imagine ; and be as- 
sured, no time will ever arrive when the 
business you now have to attend to can 
be better done, even if it could be done 
at all. Nor can time or opportunities 
lost at one period ever be recovered in 
another, because every period of life is 
fully occupied with its own proper en- 
gagements ; so that what is lost in youth 



216 JANE TAYLOR. 

is lost, irrecoverably lost. Now the 
only way to make real proficiency in 
learning of any kind, is to acquire a 
love of it for its own sake, and this may 
always be done by taking pains. Never 
be contented with merely getting through 
your daily tasks in order to escape fines 
and punishments. A boy of sound sense 
and strong mind can find pleasure in 
that daily round of business which to the 
sluggish or trifling is all toil ; and those 
difficulties which discourage and disgust 
the idle, do but stimulate the diligent to 
greater efforts. 

11 But, my dear John, let me still more 
urgently entreat you not to suffer either 
business or pleasure to divert your 
mind from what you know is all impor- 
tant. Oh, do not indulge that foolish 
and false idea, that the great concerns 
of religion may be put off to a future day. 
Do but try, and you will find that 'the 



JANE TAYLOR. 217 

fear of the Lord is' indeed 'the begin- 
ning of wisdom,' and that they who seek 
him early enjoy his peculiar favor and 
blessing on all the pursuits and events 
of life ; and you, bereaved as you are of 
early friends, how much more than you 
can possibly at present imagine, do you 
need God to be your Father and the 
Guide of your unprotected youth ! Study 
his will then by constantly reading the 
Scriptures, and seek him for yourself by 
earnest prayer, and be assured you will 
not seek in vain. I will not apologize 
for not writing you an entertaining let- 
ter, since it is the desire I feel for your 
truest good that induces me to fill it 
with such plain advice, persuaded that 
you will not only receive it kindly, but 
peruse it with attention and serious 
thought. You have heard how much 
your sister and I were disappointed in 
not being able to visit you while we 

28 



218 JANE TATLOK. 

were at Bedford ; the bad weather ren- 
dered it quite impossibla. Believe me, 
dear John, 

"Your affectionate friend. " 

In November she went to London to 
take leave of an old friend who was 
about to leave England, and thus end a 
long and endeared intercourse. The 
interview was prolonged, and to its 
excitement was added a chilly rain, in 
which she returned to Ongar. 

A cold thus taken aggravated her dis- 
order and wasted her strength, and the 
winter set in under unfavoring circum- 
stances. Yet she always joined the fam- 
ily circle ; and when unable to do so of 
herself, Isaac brought her in his arms. 

Jane was slight in figure, and her 
features, regular and delicately formed, 
were full of that varying expression 
most difficult for the pencil to catch and 
portray. Every motion revealed the 



JANE TAYLOR. 219 

activity of her mind, and a peculiar arch- 
ness and sprightliness of manner lent a 
charm to all she did. 

"I need not tell you," she writes 
Anne, "how kindly I am nursed, and 
how tenderly all is done for my relief 
and comfort. I am thankful for being 
so free from pain ; my suffering is almost 
entirely from languor and weariness and 
difficulty of breathing. I often think I 
ought to rejoice in this gradual decay, 
in being thus secured from far greater 
suffering; but I desire to leave it all 
with God. 

"You do not forget that this summer 
is your time for coming to Ongar. I 
have been looking forward to it for a 
long time. 

"Dear Anne and Mr. Gilbert, re- 
member me in your prayers, as I am 
sure you do. ;; 

Winter passed, the singing birds re- 



220 JANE TAYLOR. 

turned to their spring boughs, and Jane 
had time often to inquire : 

"Saviour, what means this breadth of death, 
This space before me lying ; 
These deeps where life so lingereth, 
This difficulty of dying ? 

1 ' So many turns, abrupt and rude, 
Such ever-shifting grounds ; 
Such a strangely peopled solitude, 
Such strangely silent sounds !" 

One day in early April. 1824, she 
came down stairs for the last time. It 
was at the usual hour, and the dear old 
family room seemed full of the calm 
which filled her own bosom. Her speech 
was faint and low ; but Isaac was at her 
side. Into his ear she whispered her 
last wishes, and with them words of love, 
which through long years seemed ever as 
fresh as the recollections of yesterday. 

In the afternoon she took up her pen ; 
only a few words more. She could not 
indeed sit at the desk, but supported in 



JANE TAYLOR. 221 

Isaac's arms, a few lines were wearily 
traced upon the page. 

"Monday. Oh, my dear friends, if 
you knew what thoughts I have now, 
you would see, as I do, that the whole 
business of life is preparation for death. 
Let it be so with you. If I have ever 
written or spoken any thing you deem 
good advice, be assured I would, if I 
could, repeat it with tenfold force. Think 
of this when I am gone. 

" May God bless you all. Farewell, 

farewell ! Dear S , dear E , dear 

P , dear J , farewell ! Yours 

till death, and after that, I hope. 

"JANE TAYLOR" 

Martin arrived from London, and 
Anne was hurrying on the way. 

A quiet night, but morning found her 
unable to rise. The sweet ministry of 
father, mother, sister, brothers floated 
through the chamber of death. Anne 



222 JANE TAYLOE. 

not come, a letter was despatched. But 
Jane felt her life ebbing away. Never 
a sight of the dear face again on earth. 

What does she say ? Is the distrust- 
ing woman still vexed by fears ? Is she 
alone in that narrow way where the 
nearest and dearest part company ? 

'"Though I walk through the valley 
of the shadow of death, I will fear no 
evil, for thou art with me ; thy rod and 
thy staff they comfort mc,'" she said, 
breaking on the stillness of the hour. 

And soon after, with the same em- 
phasis : 

" ' Jesus, to thy dear, faithful hand 
My naked soul I trust ; 
And my flesh waits for thy command 
To drop into the dust.' " 

Repeating with victorious fervor the 
words : 

" ' Jesus, to thee my naked soul, 
My naked soul I trust.' " 

That evening she slept in Jesus. 



JANE TAYLOK. 223 

A simple monument marks her final 
earthly resting-place in the chapel-yard 
at Ongar. 

The next year, Isaac Taylor married 
Elizabeth Medland, and made a home at 
Stanford Rivers, a secluded country 
village two miles from his father's house 
at Ongar. This was the scene of his 
literary labors. 

The "Natural History of Enthusi- 
asm," "Fanaticism," and "Spiritual 
Despotism," followed by "Saturday 
Evening," w r ere read and welcomed by 
a large circle of admirers. Their au- 
thor was unknown. Who is he ? was 
the question of the day : not answered 
till called upon to stand for the vacant 
chair of Logic in the University of Ed- 
inburgh, in 1836. His anonymous shield 
was then put by, and Isaac Taylor be- 
came a marked man. 



224 JANE TAYLOE. 

His biography of Jane, which prece- 
ded the above-named works, is warm 
with the love which knit them together. 

Isaac Taylor died in the spring of 
1865, and the parted ones met in "the 
land beyond the sea." 



